Tuning in to the Middle of a Bottle Episode

[This post brought to you by procrastination]

If I got to be an extra on a bottle episode on the ride from Atlanta, to New Orleans, I tuned right into the middle of one on the way from Albuquerque to Phoenix. Albuquerque was a stop in the middle of the route of the bus I was riding, meaning that everyone’s dynamics–as well as their seats–had been firmly established by the time I got on. I didn’t realize this as I sat in the middle of the Greyhound Station, watching the people around me and listening to them talk to each other about things as disparate as the new pope and where to go smoke a cigarette. This was my introduction to the cast of characters I was about to become a part of: the young man sitting on a bench, wearing bright, sparkly, mauve headphones and dancing as best he could in a seated position; the tall man with a tear, and a cross, and a multitude of other things, tattooed on his face; the female half of the couple behind me who realized that her backpack, empty, was worth more than Greyhound would insure all of her luggage for.

I watched these people file back on to the bus in front of me. I’d foolishly thought I was at the front of the line, and had been looking forward to a window seat I could cuddle up in and sleep away the ride. The bus felt like it was completely full by the time I finally made it on, but, eventually, I found a seat next to a reasonably friendly woman who’d been traveling since Oklahoma.

Even after someone as far back in the line as me made it on and found a seat we didn’t leave though. They were pulling people off the bus and searching them. I wasn’t entirely sure why, like I said, I’d tuned in to the middle of the story. The person sitting across from me was already good buddies with the guy sitting behind him, and started in on a monologue about how he was from Rhode Island (all I could hear was Peter Griffin when he talked) and he–a white guy–wasn’t used to the kind of racial profiling that was being used to pick which riders got searched. The man with the facial tattoos got back on the bus after being detained as part of the profiling that was going on and someone had taken his seat. I was worried it was me for a moment. The lady next to me assured me it wasn’t.

The reasonably friendly lady next to me started talking about all the different places you could hide drugs on a bus, and how she never left her bag on a bus when she got off to smoke or use the bathroom or what-have-you because someone could stash something in it. She called me both “honey” and “sweetie” over the course of the ride. (This is something I’ve noticed as I travel west. Endearments are tossed around a lot more frequently) I’m pretty sure someone sitting behind us was her child. Maybe if I’d been one commercial break earlier, I would’ve known.

Someone wasn’t back on the bus when we left Albuquerque. Someone who’d been part of this cast for miles and miles wasn’t continuing the journey. I have no idea who was missing, this character hadn’t been in the show when I started watching, but I could tell some of the people around me knew who was gone.

As with the last bottle episode sleep proved more important than following the story carefully. The next time I woke up the rumor circulating the bus was that the person who’d been pulled off had been carrying more than a thousand dollars in cash, which is illegal without some sort of documentation. In New Mexico at least.

The sun was starting to rise in Arizona when the bus overheated, and I thought maybe this bottle episode was going to be awfully derivative of the last one. People around me started to complain, apparently this wasn’t the first time this bus–a model without outlets or wi-fi and with seats that weren’t evenly spaced–had been persnickety on this journey. The guy across the aisle started talking with his new-found buddy behind him again. They were both mechanics. The Rhode Islander knew all about diesel engines and was happy to expound on the subject.

After just a few minutes by the side of the road the bus started again and I fell back asleep.

When we got to Phoenix the evidence of the bonding that had been inflicted on the passengers became clear. Some people exchanged business cards, others exchanged handshakes or hugs. Quite a few people remained on the bus. They were headed all the way to Los Angeles. Phoenix was where I changed the channel though, so I didn’t find out what the final act of the episode was.