DC – part one

I am in DC this weekend for a job fair. Here are some excerpts from my travel log:

4:20pm: I leave my apartment. The last song I hear is “Until the End of Time”. The song haunts me for the entirety of the trip. Damn you Timberlake.

5:05pm: I wait in line for the Chinatown bus. A transit employee approaches me, and hands me a flyer advertising his own private venture, “In N Out Enterprises”, which appears to be part metropolitan transport, part CD music production. I learn that during evenings he plays guitar; reggae is his genre. He queries for my ethnicity. I don’t mind because I return the favor. The bus begins to board and I say goodbye to my new Ghanian guitarist transit employee friend.

5:50pm : The bus is freezing and I am bored of my audiobook.

6:51 pm: My nap is interrupted by a young couple nearby. She is giggling like a metronome, a periodic eruption of young adult affection. I estimate their relationship phase at somewhere around the “Her needless titters meets His every sentence” stage. I doubt he is really that funny. I glare at them, but they are oblivious. Perhaps I should caution them against exhausting their relationship’s finite supply of mirth and cheer in a single night.

7:45 pm: Pit stop at the last rest area in New Jersey. The driver allots 15 minutes. I consider my dinner options with care. Soon, I am coolly leaning against the bus, eating supper, comprising of a vanilla frozen yogurt cone from TCBY. Life on the road is poignant in these little moments.

10:30pm: I am jostled awake and see a line of departing passengers in the aisle. The bus springs us loose in a back alley in Chinatown. I grab my bags and say a silent prayer to ward off bad luck and stray gunfire.

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