The {Greyhound} Bus Trip Across the United States. Part Three

Okay.  The tower almost worked.  Seriously, though, this entertained us for hours!  I’m really surprised no one told us off for practically breaking their chair…or their table…or their flower pot.

Anyway…After Galesburg, our next stop was Chicago. Another 5 hours. Only to snag another bus that would take us back to our final destination which was the Quad Cities.  I really don’t know why we had to go to Chicago. Instead of just connecting with a bus that went directly to Davenport, IA. Chicago is 176 miles east of our final destination only to get on another bus headed back the way we came to Davenport, IA which was still not our final destination.  Either way, we eventually made it there.

For the record, Midwest Trailways buses are SO MUCH NICER than anything the Western States had to offer. Maybe it’s different now.  Thank you for being clean and spacious!

Chicago depot was arguably the most awkward place we had to wait for our connecting bus.  We were the only Caucasian people in the bus station, except for a group of Amish people.  I kid you not.

Context:  I grew up attending a high school that was a pretty good mix of all kinds of races, Pauler was a home schooled boy in a retirement town.  He told me once he could probably have counted the people he knew who were not white, on one hand.

So one could imagine the culture shock we felt.  Although I have more experience with other racial cultures (having grown up in such a diverse place) than Hums, I am still a by-product of the culture I was raised in …I can pretend like I am all tough and know all kinds of things because I have black, mexican, asian friends.  But let’s be honest here.  I am still painfully white.  And that’s okay.

There was a young teenage girl traveling with her grandma.  We were all waiting for our respective buses to arrive so we could get on with our lives.  For one reason or another, the teenage girl became agitated with one of the terminal/guard people because she was disrespecting her grandma or something. I missed the first part of the argument.

It got pretty heated and the girl started threatening to jump the guard lady.  

The grandma was trying to get her granddaughter to be quiet, but it was futile.
Eventually these two big guards, upwards of 6’6 and at least 200 pounds easy, had to come and tell the girl that if she didn’t calm down they would have to void her ticket and she wouldn’t be able to leave Chicago or get arrested or something like that.

I was intrigued, and amused that the girl didn’t seem to care about the implications of yelling at Bus Station Personnel, she just wanted to get up in everybody’s faces and tell them to stop disrespecting her grandma. Eventually, I’m pretty sure her grandma’s voice finally penetrated her brain and she let it go.

Then our bus finally arrived. We traveled awhile longer and finally got to my parents. Grungy, greasy, and tired. On the way back to school, we packed my bike with us…but that is a story for another time. I’d like to say we’ve learned our lesson about packing light…

And thus ends The Bus Trip Saga.

Read Part One. Read Part Two.