Wrote this at some point before this present moment. Red wine whispers into my ear, says proofreading is not a good idea. I listen to red wine. You should, too.
Everyone already knows that the greyhound bus service is sibling to the distinctively horrible SPIRIT airlines- born the bastard hate child of inexpensiveness and an attitude of seething disdain towards the entire customer base.
In spite of rambling on about all of the painful intricacies of the ordeal, I’ll put it this way: the degenerate sub-society of greyhound employees completely fucked up at every chance they got. And rest assured, every hound I encountered certainly lacked a chromosome or three, taking the bewildered rage they feel towards the science of genetics out on any customer pompous enough to approach their rightful habitat, the ticket counter.
On a side note of blatant irrelevance, my taxi driver on the way to the bus station had himself an interesting life story. He was born in Iraq, moved to Iran in the midst of the Iraq-Iran episode of the Persian Gulf War, eventually moving to the states when he was 22. He assured me that the vast majorities of Middle Easterners like America and Americans. What they dislike is the American government. Well, if they like us, and we like them… Call me a senile lunatic, a delusional atheist to all things patriotic (oil), but encounters like that make me believe it’s possible to live in a world where intelligent people put time and effort into things other than designing nuclear chodes capable of setting life back by destroying most existence for miles upon miles. But what the hey, penis roaches can survive it, right?
In conclusion, I would rather travel on foot with a homosexually cannibalistic tribe of Icelandic aborigines on religious pilgrimage to go see a no doubt concert than partake on another hell ride on the back of a greyswine bus.