
After a five-and-a-half hour commute last night, I brought ‘Commuting Suicide’ out of retirement over at mental_floss:
I used to write a column called “Commuting Suicide†for YesButNoButYes. For a while, this was fun. But as my body became more conditioned to bus travel, I struggled to find novel complaints. It’s been over a year since the last installment.
But none of the slight inconveniences I whined about can compete with yesterday’s journey home. I left the office at 5pm and didn’t get home until 10:30. Here are excerpts from emails I sent to my wife and various friends from the bus:
“Snow has turned to sleet, I think. I’m actually not sure where we are. There’s a WalMart I’ve never noticed before. We may still be on that road right after the Lincoln Tunnel. It’s been 100 minutes.â€
“After three hours, we’re somewhere in Harrison. It’s an interactive commuting experience, as the driver is now following a shortcut suggested by a passenger. Other people are chiming in as well, like audience members at a Price Is Right taping.â€
“Now other passengers are offering advice, walking up from the back. Lots of pointing. It’s tough to put ‘I-Will-Now-Accept-Your-Navigational- Input’ back in the bottle.â€
“I just remembered that my car is on top of the Park n’ Ride lot, five spots away from the roof’s shelter. Good times.â€
“I’m so glad I didn’t drink any sparkling water this afternoon.â€
“Any chance I put the ice scraper back in my car?â€
“Now I think we’re lost, though some guy just rang the bell and hopped off. Not sure whether he actually lives near here, or, after three hours and twenty-two minutes, just couldn’t take it any longer.â€
“Ooh, we’re back on track. We’re on Northfield. I’ll call you from the car.â€
“Correction: We’re on Northfield, but the bus is sliding backwards. Also, the bus is filling with smoke.â€
“We’re pulled over, waiting. For what I’m not sure. A lady shouted, ‘My lungs are filling up!’ Guess I’ll get out and walk. It’s gotta be about four miles from Seton Hall Prep to the Park & Ride at Turtleback Zoo. Through the snow. Can’t wait to hold this over my kids’ heads.â€
OK, it’s only two miles. That part may get left out when this story is passed down. And the ice scraper wasn’t in my car. Lucky for me, a bathing suit was. It worked wonders.
[See the original post at mentalfloss.com.]