The Greyhound Chronicles

This all originally appeared on Facebook, but not everyone’s on Facebook. (Hi, Mom!) So I’m posting it here, too, for you to enjoy.

Any annotations are in italics, and mostly they provide context or commentary.

1.

Dec. 7th, 5:20 PM

I love paying a $3.50 “convenience” fee and then having to catch a cab to the airport to get on the bus. A fine use of irony there.

At this point I hadn’t left my sister’s house yet. I had no idea. None.

2.

Dec. 7th, 6:51 PM

I’m at the depot ridiculously early. Got my ticket. Found out my bus is delayed by 90 minutes.

If I’d known I wasn’t in a hurry, I’d have told my cabbie to not bother running those three red lights.

Thanks for the notification, Greyhound. You suck.

Any Wpg folks, if you’re bored, swing by and say hi.

One did. Thanks, Michelle!

3.

Dec. 7th, 8:07 PM

I wonder if the dude with the Australian accent running the metal detector over everyone who will be boarding the northbound bus ever looks out the window at the snow, sighs, and thinks about the choices he’s made.

One of my Australian Facebook friends assured me that he does.

4.

Dec. 7th, 8:22 PM

I just now saw a sign telling me that I can save 10% on a Harvey’s burger if I take my bus ticket to the airport terminal.

I was loath to leave the bus terminal, on the chance that my bus would somehow magically show up, and I’d miss it. Also, if you’re trying to lure me away, you’ll have to do better than Harvey’s.

5.

Dec. 7th, 9:05 PM

Douglas Adams pointed out that it’s no coincidence that no language has ever coined the phrase “as pretty as an airport”. Ditto bus terminals.

Self-explanatory, I trust.

6.

Dec. 7th, 9:23 PM

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

Likewise self-explanatory.

I also posted a comment: “Greyhound, you owe everyone in this terminal a refund on their ‘service’ fee.”

7.

Dec. 7th, 10:00 PM

In line. Greyhound suuuuuuucks.

They herd you through “security” before they load the bus. It’s pretty funny, since people getting on at stops along the way aren’t subjected to a metal detector. Also, in the Winnipeg terminal, you can leave the “security” area and return without a second check. Just so long as you don’t move your carry-on bags out.

8.

Dec. 7th, 10:18 PM

They’re still calling it the 8:30 bus to Brandon. It’s 10:18 PM now. #greyhoundIsTerrible

9.

Dec. 7th, 10:39 PM

The Thompson bus arrived after the Brandon one. Guess which one is boarding first. Go ahead, guess. #ffs

10.

Dec. 7th, 10:43 PM

A dude has decided he’s not getting on the bus now. Cue the clown show of retrieving his checked bag.

He got yelled at for moving his carry-on bags from the “secure” area. He decided that the highway conditions were still too bad to travel. (He was partly right; as is tradition, the highway was terrible from Winnipeg to Portage la Prairie.)

11.

Dec. 7th, 10:54 PM

I’m on a bus.

It’s almost 11 pm. This is the 8:30 bus.

Never again, Greyhound.

The early bus was scheduled to leave Winnipeg at 8:30 PM and arrive in Brandon at 11:10 PM. The late bus was to leave at 11:00 and get in at 1:50.

The early bus left Winnipeg at 11:00 PM (ish) and arrived in Brandon around 1:30 AM. I don’t know the fate of the late bus.

12.

Dec. 7th, 11:00 PM

As we got rolling, I noticed that the front seat held two coolers of human blood, helpfully labelled Please Expedite Without Delay.

13.

Dec. 7th, 11:40 PM

A middle-of-the-night bus ride down a snowy Trans-Canada between Winnipeg and Brandon? Yeah, The Tragically Hip seems like the right soundtrack.

Coda.

Dec. 8th, 1:52 AM

Home.

Epilogue.

Dec. 8th, 9:29 AM

They just got in touch via Twitter and suggested I check their bus tracker next time. I tried that. Apparently “Winnipeg” doesn’t exist.

I snarked a bit on Twitter, too. The helpful people at the Greyhound Help account obviously didn’t realize I was talking about Greyhound Canada.

This also felt a bit like the post-credits scene, the last joke in a rolling farce.


On the up side: at least I didn’t sleep on the floor of the terminal, like the one guy loudly proclaimed he had the previous night. According to him, the temperature dropped overnight in the terminal — almost certainly a cost-saving measure — and no one was willing to turn up the heat.

At least I had a good book to read. (Stories of Your Life and Others, re-titled Arrival to capitalize on the movie, a collection of short stories by Ted Chiang.)