Not all bus rides are bad
It was the day before our big trip. It was a long-needed getaway that started with a speaking engagement for me.
All of these trips include someone to accompany me. They’re my sighted guide as we navigate through the airports and highways and byways. They help me check in and check out. At times they’ve even sold books at the back of the room. That helps ensure that I get some things right.
This time it was Connie’s turn. She’s already done so much for me, it’s almost embarrassing. Nevertheless, here we are packing up for a trip of a lifetime.
Neither of us had been to Seattle. This should be a great time.
Trying hard to be a little ahead of the game, I laid out the clothes that I would be taking the day before we left. I had everything I needed. We were all set.
The next stop was at the School for the Blind. We had a great day helping the students with Cooking Club, Soccer Club, and Chess Club. The kids had a lot of fun and I was tired and ready to head home.
Shockingly the driver showed up 30-minutes early for my pickup. I apologized and told him that I wouldn’t be ready for at least 15 minutes. So he took a short drive and came back. I still wasn’t ready. I apologized and told him that I needed to take some students back to their cottages. He said that the apology wasn’t necessary. He was still early. That’s how the ride started.
Finally, after getting the students situated, I got on the bus. The driver and I talked the whole way home. He was extremely nice, thoughtful, and entrepreneurial. Best. ride. ever!
I told him of my appreciation for him and headed in the house. That’s where our youngest son was joining us for dinner. He would shuttle Connie and me to the airport in the morning. First we had dinner. Connie prepared a lovely meal of fish and broccoli. We ate light that night, because we knew we’d be eating heavy on our trip.
After cleaning up the table, I went to grab my phone and take one last look at email. My phone is usually in my back pocket. It wasn’t there. I could have laid it on the island. It wasn’t there. How about my jacket. Nope. Colin called it. Nothing.
Connie looked up on the “Find My Phone” App. There it was. Going right down Route 71. Crap. What now? I did all that I could think of, I called the bus company. They weren’t much help. So, I tried to call my phone. Nothing. Tried calling with Facetime. No luck.
This is turning into a soap opera. Lots of drama unfolding.
I took a break from the phone expedition for a bit. I put my clothes and what-not in my suitcase. Double-checked to see that I had everything. (except my phone)
Then I started to think about what I had on that phone. It was pretty much everything. I felt naked and afraid.
Connie says, “why don’t you call your phone again?” So I did it. No luck. A second time with Facetime. Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring …. (as I’m about to hang up) “Hello, this is BJ. Is this Brian?”
I could have almost kissed him through the phone. Thirty minutes later I was shaking his hand and thanking him profusely. He saved my bacon.
I learned a valuable lesson that day. Never eat before checking email.
No, that’s not it. The lesson is that not all Mainstream drivers are buttholes, They’re not all out to get me.
Then, to top it all off, he picked me up today. My new best friend picked me up.
p.s. Pictures from our trip will be coming out soon. They’re pretty good, since I took them from my phone. 😉
What do you think of this story? It’s too strange to have been made up.