By Jamie
In honor of me making my last installment on my 10 year student loan I thought I’d go back to my college days, the days I attended University of Oregon. Namely, my freshman year when I was the typical college student who lived in the dorm and managed with out a car. I don’t remember living with out a car to be that horrible…seemed like I got around fine. That’s maybe the only perk to living on campus, cause it sure wasn’t the spacious rooms or the awesome showers.
To travel back to Seattle from Eugene the only reasonable mode of transportation was to ride the good ol’ Greyhound. I hated travelling that way, but I was so home sick I braved the 6 hour ride. On these rides I met some very interesting people that I’ll never forget. Like this one girl, I’d say she was 21 to my 18. The leg from Eugene to Portland was packed, so we sat side by side sharing stories. I was in awe of her “of age”-ness. A real adult talking to ME! Wow. We got to the Portland station which is MUCH nicer than either the Eugene station or the Seattle station (which really isn’t saying much). She offered to step outside and share a joint with me. Hell yeah! At that age I loved smoking pot with random strangers. It was fun, I felt like a rebel. I love how the evening lights of Portland really started to shimmer. We hung some more and then oh my god, I started feeling so sick. Like I was gonna puke. I must have went completely white…my new friend looked at me with concern. Oh crap! I didn’t want to pass out (which I’ve always been prone to do), I did not want to draw any attention to me. I’m sure this gal thought “Great…look what happens when I smoke w/a light weight”. And let it be known, I was not…I was living in Eugene after all. But she dropped me like a hot potato, more like a sick potato. Luckily on the Portland to Seattle leg I got my own seat to stretch out. At the end of the journay, though, it was me avoiding my gal pal. I remembered her telling me she was sleeping in the bus station…and I didn’t want her on my couch.
My other favorite memory is short. I can’t remember what leg, what trip…I had to be heading southbound. At some point I got a seatmate. He was, oh I would guess in this early 50’s. Happy to chat to acute young girl, I’m sure. He was headed to L.A. He was going to be staying with his friend who is a pimp. Hmmmm…But what I remember more than anything is him telling me “I only get horny when I’m stoned”. And I was hoping and praying he wasn’t or didn’t want to invite me at our next stop (yeah, so maybe I smoked with strangers, but not creepy strangers…my parents would be proud!).
Who doesn’t have a Greyhound story? I hear the buses are nicer, and sometimes it’s the only option people have to travel. I’m grateful that my parents let me take my car to college the next year and I never had to ride it again. Guess Greyhound riding is a rite of passage for college students!
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