so i decided to beat the storm on friday and left work early to head out to boston. a 4 hour ride, i thought, if i get out early, i could miss the ugliness of the winter storm and maybe it would take 5 hours to get to boston.
at 4pm i was still a little optimistic. i called my friend and said, maybe i would be 2 hours late. even though we had just spent over and hour going so slowly i could have jogged next to the bus.
at 6pm we were still somewhere in connecticut.
i think we hit massachusetts at about 8pm.
a little after 9, the bus died. 30 minutes out of boston. something had frozen and there was snow packed around some supposed to be moving parts of the underside of the bus. how do i know? because the bus driver pulled open parts of the aisle, right next to my seat and i could see right through to the road.
bus came back to life at almost 10 and i FINALLY made it to boston at 10:30 pm.
nine and a half hours later
i have to take the bus back in a few hours...
1 comment:
I'm glad u wrote that story b/c altho it's frustratingly true, it's quite amusing the way u wrote it.
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