Strangers with Whiskey

February 28, 2011 at 3:13 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , )

I took a megabus trip home this weekend to spend some quality time with some old friends and fam, and true to megabus form, I had an interesting trip.  I’m not sure what it is about me that encourages strangers to open up and tell me random things about themselves but it seems to happen a lot.  My Friday afternoon bus trip was no exception and was made worse by the fact that the guy sitting next to me was rather drunk.

I did not realize his drunkenness while we stood in line and chatted about megabus in general.  Oh, no.  I was oblivious until

Road trips are a trip

we sat down next to each other and he brought out a bottle of Jack Daniels that was 2/3 empty…he told me offhandedly that he had purchased it that afternoon.  It was then that I knew I was in for a long bus ride.

Over the course of the next three hours I was regaled with stories of his kinky girlfriend, his buddies who were growing some sort of fancy type of marijuana that I couldn’t begin to understand if I tried, his new job and recent move from another large Midwestern City, how his little sister was throwing her life away and how crappy his truck runs in Chicago winters.  At one point, this big burly man had tears running down his face as he told me how one of his friends gave him clean urine so he could pass a drug test.  Apparently, that’s the mark of a true friendship.  It was also around this time that I finally acquiesced and helped myself to what was left in his whiskey bottle.

After disembarking the bus (and leaving my drunken friend behind to go on to the next stop), I stood outside waiting on my ride mom.  While waiting, I somehow managed to get into a conversation about birthing practices in different cultures with a middle-aged woman also waiting for her ride.  In the span of about 90 seconds, we went from discussing the weather to talking about the evolution of the bodies of women and how modern birthing practices don’t take that evolution into account.  The whiskey may or may not have had something to do with my enthusiasm but hey, at least I wasn’t driving.

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