Seattle Music News

Remember me?

I'm the dumbass that went to SXSW on a Greyhound bus. I planned to take the long trip home...but it ended up being a nightmare, and I am home two days early thanks to a stupid credit card providing me with an escape option. I've gotten a few "I told you so's" already, but I'm here to say, "NO, YOU DIDN'T TELL ME SHIT AND SHUT THE FUCK UP TOO!!!"

I fully admit that I'm crazy enough to do things, like take stinky old Greyhounds round trip for 5000 miles...but now, I have come to the conclusion that I will NEVER!!! ...... EVER!!! ....... NEVER TAKE A FUCKING GREYHOUND AGAIN!! NOT EVEN TO PORTLAND OREGON!!

The beginning of the end started yesterday Sunday, when I left Austin at about 12:00 pm. The first bus that I took had a broken AC unit and was emiting thick black smoke from the engine. All of us passengers were dying and complaining of heatstroke. We did this for 800 and something miles to El Paso. Funny though, even the heat didn't stop all the passengers from eating McDonald's at a rest stop, and turning the whole bus into a shitty, rotten, stinkin' secret sauce-filled sauna. I almost puked. It was so hot and smelly on this fucking bus.

Then, the bus temporarily broke down for about an hour, because it couldn't go in reverse at a gas station stop. After the woman bus driver fixed it, we stopped for breaks way more than we needed to...mainly because the bus was so hot.

Then, we changed drivers. Our new bus driver yelled at me when I asked him if we were going to get to El Paso in time for me to make my connection. His answer: "HEY! IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT YOU GUYS WERE TWO HOURS LATE!". There's some customer service for you.

When we got to El Paso, I found out that Greyhound overbooked all bus rides going to Salt Lake City. They transfered my guitar w/ case to the waiting/already too-full bus to SLC. I asked the driver of the El Paso bus if I could get my guitar. He said- "NO! WE ARE GOING TO HANDLE THAT FOR YOU! GO WAIT FOR YOUR BUS IN LANE 4!".

At Lane 4, I spoke to a couple who'd been waiting to get onto an SLC bus since 7:00 that morning, and the ticket office would give them no specifics on when the bus would come, or where to stand and wait. They did not have enough money for a plane ticket. By now, it was 2:00 am in the morning.

Soon, the new driver came, and said- "I can take these four people. The next bus for Salt Lake City leaves at 6 am! Please step back!"

Here is where I shouted at the new bus driver, who looked similar to a drunk and pissed-off Captain Kangaroo..."HOLD IT!! You guys need to take my guitar off if you won't let me ride on this bus!"

The driver said, "Hey Listen...if you've got a problem, you need to visit the ticket counter!", and then closed the lane door, and mounted his prized cow...another McDonald-lovin' FART bus.

I raced to the other door to stop him from leaving, when two fluent spanish-speaking security guys came up and tried to grab me. One says in English, "Excuse me, what is your problem?", as I am literally waving the bus driver down as he is trying to pull out of the station, and finally stops. I said to the security guy, "Can you PLEASE help me stop this bus and take my guitar off of it, so I can catch another bus, or call the airport??"

FUUUUUUCK!!!

So, the security guy says- "OHHH, so you want to take plane instead, huh?".

Out of my big mouth- "YES! AFTER THE WAY YOU GUYS ARE TREATING ME AND THE OTHER PASSENGERS? HELL YEAH! I'LL GO TO THE AIRPORT!".

So, the security guy yanks my guitar out of the bus, rips the claim tag off, and says "Ok! You're done traveling on Greyhound. Get out of here!" I go to the ticket office to complain, but the barely english-speaking ticket lady doesn't want to listen to me. I am given an 800 number to call. Whatever! At the same time, the security guys kept looking on at me. (Possibly plotting my bloody beating and imprisonment in nearby Juarez Mexico? Hmmm.)

So, I finally figured out the number to Yellow Taxi, bought a plane ticket in the cab on my way to the airport. I caught a Southwest Airlines 6:30 am flight to Albuquerque NM, then onto Seattle. If I had not done this, I would have been home on Wednesday afternoon at the latest. What a nightmare.

I still have the reboarding passes that I haven't used, and the complete itinerary too. I plan on writing them a very nasty letter and sending the tickets stubs. I'll attempt to get a refund on a non-refundable ticket. Unfortunately, the witnesses probably saw and put up with scenes like that on a regular basis.

What does this have to do with music? Fuck if I know! It had everything to do with a guitar...that much I know. One reason: I tried to go Greyhound to possibly save our band a little money, and to have a great adventure in the middle of Nowhere, USA...but in the end, a one-way plane ticket ended up costing ME, not the band, just as much as a round-trip plane ticket to Austin would have.

All in all, dealing with this sort of thing reminded me that the world is a real fucking poor, lonely bus station in the middle of nowhere. When we occasionally choose to give a damn about other people a little more than ourselves, we have the power to turn that shitty depot into a flashy airport.

They overbook the planes sometimes too.