I had decided to spend a weekend a way from DC, as I have not left the city since November and have grown extremely restless. On an entry-level salary, it is very difficult to go to a unique and exotic location, so my choices were somewhat limited. After careful deliberation, I decided that 72 hours was the perfect timeframe to head to New York. I was planning on catching up with a few girlfriends from college and simultaneously marvel at the city, wondering why I didn’t end up living there. Based on my financial constraints, I decided to take Bolt Bus, a relatively new bus service which goes non-stop from Washington DC right to Penn Station in NYC. Prices are good, there have been no reported murders, and it’s usually a young, hip crowd. I booked my ticket and pranced off excited about my out-of-dc-weekend.

The bus ride to NYC was quiet uneventful and calm. After a fabulous 3 days in NYC touring, shopping, and of course those somewhat blackout nights we have all grown to love, my friend took me to the Bolt Stop. Now to preface this story, it is a known fact that you have to show up about 15 minutes before the bus in order to get on. I came about 5-10 minutes before my 4pm bus was supposed to depart and was IMMEDIATELY informed that I could not get on. Why do you say? Well apparently the “fine print” on the ticket states that if you are NOT there 15 minutes before, they can give your seat away. ( (I rechecked my ticket…THERE IS NO FINE PRINT!)So I and the other 5 passengers who the bus driver decided to LEAVE in New York just stood there, our Barneys co-op bags in hand! We were told that due to this “misunderstanding” we were first in line on stand-by for the next bus, coming in 1.5 hrs. As the minutes dragged on, the ticketed line grew longer and longer. When the driver finally decided to load the bus, a fight insued as a group of tweens (and I use this term loosely to refer to teenagers who make the Mean Girls look like angels) tried to clamor on the bus with the incorrect tickets.

At this point, I reached the end of my patience. I finally realized that my only alternative was to take the train back to DC. I quickly schlepped to the train station and purchased a coach ticket for DC. When they called my track number, I walked to the train and once again awkwardness struck. The only seats available were in the silent car! I would not be able to talk on my phone for 3.35 hours. I suppose it would be important to mention at this part that I have a slight addiction to my phone and all the calling/texting/emailing/chatting capabilities it has. This quiet car was the equivalent of handing an alcoholic a diet coke and saying welcome to the next three non-intoxicated hours of your life. As I sat down and realized I would not be able to talk to anyone FOREVER, I began my first Amtrak journey back to DC.

May luck truly be with me, but about 45 minutes into my journey, this homeless individual decided that the seat next to me was quite appealing. Clearly, the 103040340 other empty seats in the quiet car just wouldn’t do. So I spent the next two hours sitting next to a man (woman?) that smelled of excrement and clearly had a mental disorder as they talked to themselves about goodness knows what….the whole way to Baltimore. Needless to say, my train experience was not what I had imagined either and just caused me to think about how badly I wanted to shower and get off the train.

Now you may ask me, what lesson did I learn? Well here it comes! Become very rich so I can afford a private jet to and from anywhere I want to go and write an angry letter to Bolt bus that states the following: Dear Bolt Bus, you suck. Love always, Diana