Random Thoughts That Meandered Through My Mind While I Waited No Less Than 54 Minutes for a 126 Bus From Port Authority on Sunday Night - 211
Hal Wastes His Wages!
December 11, 2006

6:08 p.m.: I’ll take the bus instead of the PATH, since I’m right here anyway.

6:09 p.m.: People who stop dead in their tracks at the top of escalators should be subject to a swift, mandatory corporal punishment exacted by the person now stuck behind them.

6:10 p.m.: Darn, no bus. I guess I can wait the 10 minutes. It’s amazing how efficient the mass transit is in this area. It’s like a Rube Goldberg device, where you can take one thing to another to another and so on until you eventually get where you need to go. What a marvelous day and age we live in, I tell ya’.

6:11 p.m.: What happens when a Rube Goldberg device breaks down?

6:13 p.m.: I need to pee. Good thing I’ll be home soon.

6:17 p.m.: Do homeless people save the money to pay for those pushcarts, or are they issued to them by the people who made them homeless? “Sorry, you’re out. But as a consolation prize you will receive this fully functional pushcart. Thanks for playing.”

6:18 p.m.: There’s no way I could write that in a column, and if I do I’m going to Hell.

6:19 p.m.: I’ve written worse.

6:20 p.m.: That bus should be here soon.

6:21 p.m.: The guy next to me is reading the Daily News.

6:22 p.m.: Why are Andy Pettitte and Roger Clemens inexorably linked in every MLB Hot Stove rumor mill? Is there some sort of Brokeback Mountain scenario between the two of them?

6:23 p.m.: I should really see Brokeback Mountain. Hell, I reference it enough, so I might as well see if these references make sense.

6:24 p.m.: Hey, that 6:20 bus is late, gosh darn it. No need to fret, as I’m sure it will be here soon.

6:25 p.m.: See; here it comes…oh, wait…that’s not it. Oh well. I should just think about stuff other than the bus and the fact that I have to pee.

6:26 p.m.: Did the Packers win today?

6:27 p.m.: Seriously, where is that bus? I should have taken the PATH.

6:29 p.m.: I wonder if I could kayak across the Hudson and simply tie it up off some little pier somewhere. I should really look into that; or maybe a Jet Ski. Either way, I could stop to pee mid-commute should the need arise.

6:30 p.m.: I should whip out my cell phone and have a loud conversation with someone simply to pass the time. All the cool people are doing it.

6:32 p.m.: Damn, look at that line behind me. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t fight my way back down the escalator and out of here. Oh well, the bus should be here soon.

6:34 p.m.: Where the $*@% is this bus?

6:36 p.m.: The girl next to me is reading Us Weekly.

6:37 p.m.: Lindsay Lohan is reportedly checking into AA and she’s only 20. She’s done a hell of a job making a name for herself as a club-goer and she’s not even of legal drinking age. Why is it that the paparazzi always know where this chick drinks but the cops never bust the place for serving a minor? There’s no way she’s using a fake ID. She should be forced to drink out in the woods until she’s 21 like I did. It builds character; did in my case.

6:43 p.m.: Holy $#!+, where the $*@% is this bus?

6:46 p.m.: You know what, maybe if I turn around and face the other way the bus will just appear behind me. There’s no sense looking for it; a watched pot never boils.

6:47 p.m.: Pot, boil, boiling water, water. Damn, I have to pee.

6:48 p.m.: Maybe we’re under attack and Tunnels are shut down. But then where the hell are the rest of these buses going?

6:50 p.m.: I’m never going to leave this place, am I? This is where it all ends. The Rube Goldberg device is broken, and I’m stuck at the broken cog.

6:51 p.m.: Ooooh look, an 800 number.

6:52 p.m.: I $*@%!^& hate automated answering services.

6:53 p.m.: I $*@%!^& hate automated answering services.

6:54 p.m.: I $*@%!^& hate automated answering services.

6:56 p.m.: Bus Advisory: Due to heavy inbound traffic, buses are facing delays of 30-40 minutes. It would have been nice if there was someone there at the terminal to tell us that--I would have taken the damn train. Besides, I’ve already been here 45 minutes. WHERE THE $*@% IS MY $*@%!^& BUS!?!?!

6:57 p.m.: You’re kidding me, (series of unprintable expletives, curses, threats and frenzied gibberish) and their children, too!!!

6:58 p.m.: I just want to go home. Please, Dear God in Heaven. I take back what I said about (series of unprintable expletives, curses, threats and frenzied gibberish) and their children, too. Just let me go home and pee.

6:59 p.m.: When that bus driver gets here, I’m either going to tear him a new one or give him a hug.

7:00 p.m.: Goodbye, cruel world.

7:02 p.m.: What’s this? Could it be?!?!?

7:03 p.m.: I’m actually getting on the bus!

7:04 p.m.: I’m still looking into that goddamn kayak. Kayak, river, water. Damn, I really have to pee.

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