“When I go out with Journey, it is a complete cakewalk. I can afford my own bus.”~ Neal Schon 
Wow, wouldn’t that be nice? My own bus. Oh well.
As my vacation was coming to an inevitable end, I was dropped off at the bus station by Dr. Froth and his wife.
As much as I would love to spend as much time with them as possible or tolerable, times like these are often a struggle because I’ve always had so much fun being around SIX MINUTE CENTURY and never want to actually “leave”.
After giving hell to the people at the Super 8 for the horrible experiences of staying there, it was on the way to the bus station. The pit of my stomach becoming more and more empty with the feeling of not wanting it to end.
However, Dr. Froth mentioned that it doesn’t feel like a true SIX MINUTE CENTURY show when I am not there. I didn’t know how to respond. He caught me speechless. If I had agreed with him, I sound like I have an inflated ego. If I disagreed with him, I run the risk of hurting his feelings. But time and time again, they all have involved me in the band in one way or another. I’m like an honorary band member, for a lack of a better term.
Getting there early enough for me to get my ticket ready, I noticed that all of the employees went into a panic when I showed up.
I got asked constantly over and over again if I had called and made reservations for a bus with a wheelchair lift in it by the same half dozen people.
With as many times as I have been on Greyhound in the past year and a half, I would learn the ropes. I would learn how things were to be operated, and I would learn that I would have to make just ONE phone call to ensure that the bus that I am about to board would be accessible for me.
I had been caught once, and that was the first time that I rode the bus that I did not call to make sure that I had an accessible ride on the return trip home. But that situation resolved itself on its own. Once bitten, twice shy.
And I did what I had to do on Thursday. In fact, I had left several messages and eventually they returned my call and confirmed all of the information that I had given them.
Yet, that Sunday afternoon as I was supposed to depart at around 1:50 PM. I got there shortly before noon, and everyone just started to freak out.
So then I sat there and waited and waited on the other side of the security checkpoint, wondering what was going on. Meanwhile leaving Dr. Froth and his wife behind. After several minutes of just sitting there and not receiving any results, I decided to go back and hang out with my friends.
Time began to crawl for me. And I wasn’t about to complain. Let time go as slow as possible, I’d say!
Eventually, it would become time for me to depart from my friends and begin the journey to officially go through the security checkpoint, get loaded on the bus, and endure a three hour ride back home.
In an effort of dry humor, I shouted out “Dead Man Rolling!”. But I don’t think that I said it to make Dr. Froth and VoM laugh, I think that I said it more for me to attempt to remove a layer of being uncomfortable with the fact that I was leaving. A way to soften the pain in my heart and an attempt to keep from crying.
Once I was through the checkpoint, I waited. And then I waited. And after that, I waited some more.
I was told that I would be boarded around 1:20-1:25 PM. It didn’t happen.
Greyhound realized that the bus coming in was NOT equipped with a wheelchair lift. So that meant that they needed to wait for a bus to come in that had one. And this caused a delay of nearly an hour before I even was taken outside to get on board.
As we were finally rolling through the downtown area, I overheard the bus driver on his cell phone. The woman who had brought in the PROPER bus, had left something on it behind. So we had to stop and wait for her to catch up to us so that she could retrieve her property that she left behind. Another delay. And then another.
I was however, prepared for my CD player to die on me. I had batteries, baby!! Each of the last trips home from Houston by way of the bus, it has happened. I plug my earphones in and within five minutes the batteries would die. But I had it covered this time.
As I sat there listening to music, remembering and reflecting on the show the night before, I suddenly began to open up my heart and mind a little bit more and actually DID AGREE with what Dr. Froth had said about “it not being a show without me”. Flattered and honored, I accepted it. So, thank you Dr. Froth!
I was supposed to arrive home at 4:50 PM. I was not home and off the bus and waiting for my sister to come pick me up until 6:00 PM. All because the wonderful folks at Greyhound didn’t do their job and make sure that a bus with a wheelchair lift was coming.
Certainly, I am not the ONLY customer that rides the bus to/from Houston…. or am I?? Nahhh!!
It seems like each and every time I am ready to leave Houston, something like this happens. The last time I went, I had problems getting TO Houston because they did not have a bus accessible for me. Then when they finally got one, they couldn’t get the lift to come out of the bus, and that took time.
What is it about Greyhound that these kinds of issues always seem to pop up??
So not only were there accessibility issues with the Super 8 hotel stay over the weekend, but there were even worse problems with Greyhound. And its getting very tiresome.
I take the bus because it is easier for me and more affordable. And honestly, if I want to continue to travel to Houston to see SIX MINUTE CENTURY, then the bus is my primary option.
With all of the grief that I have had with Greyhound, I think its time to say something and time for Greyhound to turn around and do something to make it right. I’m thinking that they should give me my next trip for free.
Dambreaker 