The Bus Of The Damned, A Twitter Epic

Last night I took a trip from central Pennsylvania back to my home in New York City. It didn’t go well. Here’s my account of the doomed voyage, as told to my Twitter followers. You can be one of them by following @jasondcrane.

The story begins about an hour into the trip…

• 8:48 p.m. — Looks like our bus has broken down somewhere in rural PA. No announcement yet, but we’ve been on the roadside for a while now.
• 8:54 p.m. — It is very, very, very dark out here in rural PA. The bus is completely off. We’re sitting in absolute darkness.
• 9:00 p.m. — Aaaand now we’re moving again. Let’s see how long this lasts. I keep expecting the bus driver to be Rod Serling.
• 9:04 p.m. — I’m no mechanic, but I give this bus a 40% chance of making it to New York City.
• 9:06 p.m. — I also love that the bus driver hasn’t said one word to us all this time about what happened.
• 9:50 p.m. — We just hit a deer. This bus is doomed.
• 10:03 p.m. — Post-deer, we’re pulled over again. The bus driver asked for a male pasenger to go outside with her. I went. Front of the bus is smashed.
• 10:15 p.m. — We’re going to limp along to a rest area where we’ll switch to another, hopefully less doomed, bus.
• 10:42 p.m. — I’d like to publicly thank @reneeyoxon for suggesting I make this Voyage Of The Damned today.
• 10:46 p.m. — Picture, if you will, a man trapped on an eternal bus ride through Pennsylvania. There’s a signpost up ahead. It reads…The @Megabus Zone.
• 10:57 p.m. — Driver has MacGyvered part of the busted headlight and Mr. @Megabus has cleared us to leave. Driver is eating a salad. Then we’ll go.
• 11:01 p.m. — “@Megabus: We’ll get at least part of your bus to its destination, no matter what we have to kill along the way.”
• 11:08 p.m. — Sweet weeping Jesus, we’re on the road! New York here we (possibly) come (if we don’t hit anything else)!
• 12:34 a.m. — You have got to be kidding me. Now we’re stuck in a looong line of cars on the highway at 12:33 a.m. Accident? Construction? God hates me?
• 12:45 a.m. — I don’t know what I did to anger the gods before this bus trip, but I’d like to apologize.
• 1:03 a.m. — People are getting out of their cars and walking around on the highway. That’s a good sign, right? I hate Pennsylvania.
• 1:06 a.m. — It’s on nights like this that I wish I still had the cyanide tablet that Mom used to pack in my lunchbox.
• 1:32 a.m. — Guy behind me is having a heated argument with a woman. He keeps smacking my seat. I ask him quietly to stop. He starts yelling at me.
• 1:35 a.m. — A breakdown. A deer strike. A huge accident. We haven’t moved in an hour. Six hours and counting for a 4.5 hour trip. Not out of PA yet.
• 1:47 a.m. — We are doing a k-turn. In a bus. On the highway. No idea where we might be going. Doesn’t look good.
• 1:54 a.m. — Off the highway. Driving on surface streets through a small Jersey town. Presumably toward our next accident or hijacking.
• 2:01 a.m. — Passed a billboard that said “Think Red.” Guy behind me yelling into his phone. At someone on the upper level of this bus. I’m thinking red.
• 2:07 a.m. — The guy behind me is so loud that the bus driver just turned on her mic to ask him to be quiet. And you’ll never believe why he’s angry…
• 2:08 a.m. — …He’s angry because he apparently fell asleep with his thumb in his mouth and his partner slapped it out. And he’s enraged.
• 2:16 a.m. — Every other truck that was rerouted by the cops continued straight on this road. We exited. We’re pulled over again. Driver on her cell.
• 2:24 a.m. — If we ever do reach Manhattan, I’ll still have to get to Brooklyn by subway in the wee hours on a Sunday.
• 2:41 a.m. — Hour 7 of this 4.5 hour trip.
• 2:55 a.m. — We’re at the Lincoln Tunnel. I may start crying with joy.
• 3:04 a.m. — Off the bus. Headed for the subway.
• 3:55 a.m. — Home. Going to bed. My 4.5 hour trip took 8.5 hours. Good night, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.