Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Hell is a bus

Guerilla Art in store windows: Sick Tweety bird

I saw myself in a gas station window reflection during the lunch break: my face looks like melted wax, I can't smile and I have no energy. Fourteen hours today. Fourteen tomorrow.
Below are "tweets" taken from my twitter feed:

6:30am: Bus packed, McDonalds eaten, body squeezed below bus seat, NPR podcasts playing on ipod. Travel day begins.

8:20am McDonalds bathroom break in Home Depot parking lot. Back to sleep on floor.

11:10am: Lunch stop. At 11am? Really? Mmhmm. Jack in the Box eggs and gas station coffee. Vomit.

12:30pm: Lunch stop ended back on road. 370 miles to go

2:11pm: Potty break somewhere in California. Doritos and one Oreo cookie for a snack

3:45pm: Another pee break? Why? And 200 more miles to go still.

For those who don't know why I'm tracking my every move today: I'm on an all-day 650 mile bus ride.

5:40: We stop AGAIN. Someone puked.

7pm: Arrival at the wrong hotel. Fourteen hours. FOURTEEN hours


iagad said...

My heart breaks for you . . not a whit of sarcasm. I have been there. Only it was a big van, and children's theatre. We had one of our performers travelling with a fever so bad, he went into convultions in the van. We laid him by the side of the road and tried to get his fever down enough to get him to a hospital. Unfortunately we laid him down on a blanket over a red ant mound (It was night). I travelled with a sick so bad I don't remember two days, and they had to rewrite the show. We had an actor fall asleep with a cough drop in his mouth, start to choke to death, and while we were all screaming for the driver to pull over, he panic slammed on the brakes, we got rear ended, and the impact dislodged the cough drop out of the actor's windpipe. The next morning the actor put on his coat and said "Ew, I must've fallen a asleep with a cough drop in m mouth. Ick." as he pulled the killer ricola from his sleeve. he had blocked out the entire incident and it took us over 15 minutes of talking and showing him that damaged van to convince him. This all happened in the weeks we were in Texas. I fear Texas, now.

I don't envy you, love. But continue to sleep under the seats (seriously . . much better napability) and know that as bad as the experience is now . . it'll feel worse with every telling. ;-)

And the Fringe show about it is probably already percolating . . . .

Much empathy,

Mark Baratelli said...

Thank you Meghan! You clearly know what I am going through. Now THAT (your story) is a Fringe show. Or an indie movie. Or both?

Summer said...

I don't know what you're going through. I clearly have lived a life of luxury.

Mark Baratelli said...

Summer you lived through Beach Bash. You know what I am going through.