Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Richmond, VA.
The home of VCU, and of the Richmond Braves, as well as -- formerly -- the Confederacy. I've just arrived here after a long bus ride and a short cab ride, and the most meaningful conversation I've had so far was with the taxi driver. He emigrated to the U.S. from Nigeria four years ago, tried Los Angeles and Boston but landed in Richmond.
I was going to go on to Raleigh, but the bus I was on was pretty dead as far as character, so decided to stick a few hours and try my luck with the overnight crowd. I'm sure most of the difficulty is my own fault, as I'm still adjusting to my new surroundings. The bus is exceedingly cold, as in blasted with air conditioning, and surprisingly quiet -- not much diesel-engine roar to be heard. I was on a Carolina Trailways bus that I caught at the Mount Laurel terminal. I might have saved an hour or so by picking up in Philly, but I figured the symbolic value of beginning in South Jersey was worth the extra hassle.
The bus was crowded enough that several folks had seatmates. I got a little unlucky, I think. It wasn't that somebody sat down next to me -- I was hoping for that -- but that the person just wanted to sleep. I was able to jealously overhear several inane conversations, confident as I was that I could have steered them to interesting ground. But the unluckiest aspect of the crowded bus was the inability to move around. In particular, I wanted to get back to the rearmost seat, where a family of four was sitting. The mom and dad couldn't have been more than 22 or 23, there was a little girl of about three in a big sunhat, and an infant that couldn't have been born more than a month ago. Had they been continuing on past the Richmond layover, I feel certain they would have had a nice story to tell about where they were going with this newborn, but they escaped into Richmond.
Oh well. I'm going to spend a few hours in this place and then head back to the terminal. I'll try to post again tomorrow morning.
I was going to go on to Raleigh, but the bus I was on was pretty dead as far as character, so decided to stick a few hours and try my luck with the overnight crowd. I'm sure most of the difficulty is my own fault, as I'm still adjusting to my new surroundings. The bus is exceedingly cold, as in blasted with air conditioning, and surprisingly quiet -- not much diesel-engine roar to be heard. I was on a Carolina Trailways bus that I caught at the Mount Laurel terminal. I might have saved an hour or so by picking up in Philly, but I figured the symbolic value of beginning in South Jersey was worth the extra hassle.
The bus was crowded enough that several folks had seatmates. I got a little unlucky, I think. It wasn't that somebody sat down next to me -- I was hoping for that -- but that the person just wanted to sleep. I was able to jealously overhear several inane conversations, confident as I was that I could have steered them to interesting ground. But the unluckiest aspect of the crowded bus was the inability to move around. In particular, I wanted to get back to the rearmost seat, where a family of four was sitting. The mom and dad couldn't have been more than 22 or 23, there was a little girl of about three in a big sunhat, and an infant that couldn't have been born more than a month ago. Had they been continuing on past the Richmond layover, I feel certain they would have had a nice story to tell about where they were going with this newborn, but they escaped into Richmond.
Oh well. I'm going to spend a few hours in this place and then head back to the terminal. I'll try to post again tomorrow morning.
