a tale of woe for the whole family!
Soooo.
I made it to the US in one piece. Not without the usual setbacks, however.
Let us take a trip, shall we? To last Christmas, when I got stuck in fucking Binghamton in the middle of the night because they messed up my bus ticket and I had like a three hour layover. I ended up having to call my dad and have him pick me up in the "bad" part of Binghamton (basically, anywhere in the city is the "bad" part) at like 1 am.
One time occurance? Rare problem that happens to someone once in their lifetime?
Apparently fucking not!
So, I get on the bus at 8:15 like a good girl. Those who have been keeping abreast of my tale of woe already know that I was supposed to be on the 6:45 bus, but due to Greyhound being a total group of pricks who unwittingly sold my mom the wrong ticket, I had to take the 8:15. Which was 13 hours rather than 9.5, but whatever. I bought like 40 bucks worth of food and was going to tough it out.
So, I get on the bus, no problem. I even get through customs without a problem, as they didn't ask me like any questions.
I get to Buffalo. THAT is where the real story begins.
So, at the Buffalo terminal, I ask my bus driver (who was a total prick and actually made some girl on the bus cry) which one I'm supposed to transfer to. Like, whether I stay on my current bus, or transfer in Buffalo, or Rochester or what. After going through a long-winded, condescending rant about how the new bus driver will take my ticket and tell me, I manage to go, "Right. Sooo...is it Buffalo, or Rochester?" The guy, who was expecting me to burst into tears, just gives me an incredulous look and walks away.
A second bus driver who had been standing nearby looks at my ticket and is like, "Oh, you're going to Wilkes-Barre? Well, this bus is going all the way to Syracuse, you can transfer there." My ticket says Scranton on it, though, so we have to go inside and change it.
Well. After talking to the ticket agent, we learn that there isn't a single bus going to Wilkes-Barre or Scranton from any of the transfer points on Wednesdays or Thursdays. Not Buffalo, not Rochester and not Syracuse.
The chick at the ticket booth says the best they can do is re-route me to NEW YORK CITY and then I can catch a bus there to Wilkes-Barre.
Yeah. NYC. I would have arrived at midnight.
At this point, I tell them I'm going to call my family and arrange a ride.
Like, 15 expensive roaming long distance calls later on my cellphone, I manage to arrange for my mom and Gary to come and get me in Binghamton. I get picked up at about 5 PM.
We get to Wilkes-Barre at like 6:30.
Yeah, it was hell. Absolute fucking hell.
I've decided I'm never getting my mom to buy my ticket again there again, it's just too fucking complex.
But I'm here now, and safe and not raped or killed in an alleyway in Binghamton.
So that's good. I'll be here until 11:59 PM on Christmas Day, and then it's another fun-filled trip back to Canadia and I get to work like 12 hours on Boxing Day. Woo!
Let's all do the happy dance now.
>.<
Happy Holidays, everyone, if I don't get a chance to post again.
I made it to the US in one piece. Not without the usual setbacks, however.
Let us take a trip, shall we? To last Christmas, when I got stuck in fucking Binghamton in the middle of the night because they messed up my bus ticket and I had like a three hour layover. I ended up having to call my dad and have him pick me up in the "bad" part of Binghamton (basically, anywhere in the city is the "bad" part) at like 1 am.
One time occurance? Rare problem that happens to someone once in their lifetime?
Apparently fucking not!
So, I get on the bus at 8:15 like a good girl. Those who have been keeping abreast of my tale of woe already know that I was supposed to be on the 6:45 bus, but due to Greyhound being a total group of pricks who unwittingly sold my mom the wrong ticket, I had to take the 8:15. Which was 13 hours rather than 9.5, but whatever. I bought like 40 bucks worth of food and was going to tough it out.
So, I get on the bus, no problem. I even get through customs without a problem, as they didn't ask me like any questions.
I get to Buffalo. THAT is where the real story begins.
So, at the Buffalo terminal, I ask my bus driver (who was a total prick and actually made some girl on the bus cry) which one I'm supposed to transfer to. Like, whether I stay on my current bus, or transfer in Buffalo, or Rochester or what. After going through a long-winded, condescending rant about how the new bus driver will take my ticket and tell me, I manage to go, "Right. Sooo...is it Buffalo, or Rochester?" The guy, who was expecting me to burst into tears, just gives me an incredulous look and walks away.
A second bus driver who had been standing nearby looks at my ticket and is like, "Oh, you're going to Wilkes-Barre? Well, this bus is going all the way to Syracuse, you can transfer there." My ticket says Scranton on it, though, so we have to go inside and change it.
Well. After talking to the ticket agent, we learn that there isn't a single bus going to Wilkes-Barre or Scranton from any of the transfer points on Wednesdays or Thursdays. Not Buffalo, not Rochester and not Syracuse.
The chick at the ticket booth says the best they can do is re-route me to NEW YORK CITY and then I can catch a bus there to Wilkes-Barre.
Yeah. NYC. I would have arrived at midnight.
At this point, I tell them I'm going to call my family and arrange a ride.
Like, 15 expensive roaming long distance calls later on my cellphone, I manage to arrange for my mom and Gary to come and get me in Binghamton. I get picked up at about 5 PM.
We get to Wilkes-Barre at like 6:30.
Yeah, it was hell. Absolute fucking hell.
I've decided I'm never getting my mom to buy my ticket again there again, it's just too fucking complex.
But I'm here now, and safe and not raped or killed in an alleyway in Binghamton.
So that's good. I'll be here until 11:59 PM on Christmas Day, and then it's another fun-filled trip back to Canadia and I get to work like 12 hours on Boxing Day. Woo!
Let's all do the happy dance now.
>.<
Happy Holidays, everyone, if I don't get a chance to post again.