Inconclusive Bus Thoughts

No matter how many times I take the Megabus from Montreal to Toronto, I always end up forgetting something and being left vaguely uncomfortable for the entire ride. It’s either water, or food, or a cellphone charger. Something that I kick myself for leaving at home and promise myself I won’t forget the next time, upon which I just forget something else.

It’s not that bad of a trip. If traffic is good it gets done in under six hours. Despite my constant forgetting I am pretty much a veteran of it. I wear something dirty looking and spread myself as much as possible on the aisle seat, take shit out of my bag so it looks like I just have a lot of shit to move. People usually don’t try to sit next to me, which is good, I struggle to sleep with only one seat. This move probably makes me a bit of an asshole, but it’s kind of a universally acknowledged one.

Halfway into the trip there’s a stop where they change drivers. They say not to leave the bus, and claim that it’s a short change, but in my experience it always take at least ten minutes. This puts me in an interesting position, especially when I’m hungry. There is a Tim Hortons nearby and it’s not too hard to make it, but the image of being left behind at the station with all  my shit driving away is pretty unpleasant. So I usually just stay on the bus and continue to suffer my hunger, or thirst, or lack of device.

There is a sense of melancholy to these long journeys. No matter how many things I bring to do on the road they sort of dry up at some pointy. Usually around hour five. Music starts feeling harsh and annoying, movies seem dull, reading a book or studying seems like too much effort, and something about the climate makes it impossible to sleep.

In a way, this is probably related to my efforts to secure a space for myself on the bus. There’s a sort of loneliness and feeling that the island you’ve created for yourself is pretty insubstantial. I used to text a bunch of people at that point in the bus ride, try to find people to talk with, but nowadays I don’t usually. Seems a bit selfish.

Ultimately the time I spend on the bus seems disjointed from the other points of my life. No matter what I do, the main purpose of me being there will be fulfilled, so it’s kind of just a free couple of hours.