The driver on the bus calls 911, all through the town.

I was reminded of what it’s like to ride a interstate bus again. Hadn’t really done it in a while, but took one from NYC to Philly this weekend just for the day.

Some things that I was reminded of:

- Buses (such as Greyhound, or smaller operators) often smell, if only slightly. It’s like a mix of fetid feet and rancid Happy Meal. Like body odor blended with wet upholstery and desperation.

- It might be easier to fall asleep inside of a clothes dryer than it is on a bus.

Also, in a great-in-small-doses kind of way, the people on a bus are almost always an interesting mix. It’s a challenge to describe the general clientele, because these buses are such a mélange of humanity. But I think that the sign at the front of the bus I took this weekend said a lot: “Please don’t talk with the bus driver while the bus is in motion. Assaulting the bus driver is a FELONY.”

On top of a friendly reminder not to distract the driver, it’s apparently important to remind passengers not to beat said driver. As an added deterrent, the degree of punishment is mentioned and highlighted. You know that this was necessitated by a frightening precedent: Enough bus drivers have been assaulted that they felt they needed to tell people not to do it. You don’t see that elsewhere. I’ve never seen a sign on a plane that asked me to “Please refrain from shanking your flight attendant.” or a train-car placard that pleasantly said “Thanks for not pummeling your conductor.”

That said, I can see myself taking a bus again soon. It’s an inexpensive way to get out the city, something that is definitely necessary for my sanity. I’ll just have to remember to bring along some sleeping pills and air freshener --and see if I can’t get my hands on a precautionary set of nunchucks.