Tag Archives: shuttle bus

I couldn’t make this sh*t up (Volume 2)

15 Mar

It is clearly too much to expect a bus driver to be sober in the middle of the day.

I arrived safely in Las Vegas where I was left to my own devises to get from the airport to Bill at the hotel. I figure that being nearly 32 years old, surely I can figure out how to get from point A to point B alone. After the morning I had though, I was regretting my decision to not have Bill come get me.

The flight had done very little for my foul mood and aching feet, so when I called Bill to find out where the hell the shuttle buses were I was less than friendly…But he understood completely.

Paying for my bus ticket was my first experience with the locals of Las Veags…I was NOT impressed. The woman was rude and nasty and acted as if I should be able to read her freaking mind. I found my way to where I had to catch the bus and had to push and shove my way through the crowd to find the bus that was going to my end of town. Still not impressed with Las Vegas. Of course it wasn’t the first or even the second bus to stop, but when the third bus arrived I was overjoyed to find out he was going my way. I took my seat in the very front by the window and waited. And waited. And waited.

FINALLY we were off.

Until we nearly hit the lady in the wheelchair crossing the road. The driver hit the breaks so hard that I went flying into the partial bulkhead that was in front of me. Leg and arm throbbing with pain I bite my lip to hold back tears. This day had just been too much for me at that point, and I was nearing mental breakdown territory. After yelling and cursing at the woman in the wheelchair we were off again. Out of the airport and into the Las Vegas traffic we nearly rear ended a taxi which sent me into the bulkhead for the second time. At this point I’m thinking that if I make it to the hotel alive it’ll take an act of God (who is still laughing at me by the way).

The driver starts making conversation with the unlucky souls he has been charged with taking to our destinations. Oh. My. God! This man is DRUNK! Or high. Either way he is not functioning with all his faculties. ¬†This is it, I’m going to die on an airport shuttle bus.

I text and tweet the events as they unfold and I receive the fifty cent tour of the strip.

Finally, there are only two of us left on this rolling death trap with the slurring driver. Who’s off first, me or him? Of course it was him, the rest of my day was a disaster, why should this be any different. Now it’s just the two of us and I’m thinking there is no way I’m going to be able to run from this lunatic if I have to because my feet are freaking killing me.

He continues to point out the sights and fills me in about the “rich folk” who bought up those $250,00 condo were in the one percent and he hates them. Note to self, don’t get into home values back in the Philadelphia suburbs with this nut.

My drunken bus driver mumbles something at me that I cannot understand. Something about me going someplace with him. WHAT? He pulls in to a gas station with a convenience store and asks me to come inside. I decline. Now I’m sitting in a shuttle bus with the doors wide open in a strange city. This has bad horror movie written all over it. Thankfully my driver returns a few minutes later with a long, skinny bag in his hand and we were off again. Two minutes later I arrived at my hotel after one of the worst days in my existence.

I don’t think I have ever been so happy to see Bill and a beer in my life. I saw him, burst into tears (by this point I couldn’t care less what anyone thought), and hobbled into his arms. After a quick hug, I took the beer with both hands and chugged.

Stay tuned for more unbelievable stories from my life.

Note: These stories are all true and factual. I did not make up any part of any of the events you will read about in this series. 

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