Bolt Bus is a really nice, well-organized, tightly-run Greyhound subsidiary. But it’s still a bus. So, you have to brace for the worst. Usually, the “worst” is just mildly annoying, though sometimes amusing. Sometimes both!
For example, on a recent trip:
Disappointingly chatty bro just behind me engaged nice middle-aged lady next to him in conversation. His opening gambit included the phrase “I’m from Jersey” literally 3 times in 2 minutes.
Which led to recent travel. The nice lady said she just got back from England. Impressed, bro asked if she was there for Wilmington. (uggggggh Wimbledon, Sporty Spicebro!) She corrected him politely, and anyway, no.
He then asked whether it’s true that all the beer is served warm there, that you can’t get cold beer. “Oh, not really, it depends where you go,” she too-politely demurred. Of all the things to ask about England, this is his pressing concern.
And on to jobs… she’s a “lecturer” at a college in New Rochelle. Subject area: English. “Oh so that’s why you went to England!” he concluded, brightly. Not exactly, she said, insufficiently discouraging this sweet idiot.
He’s in school somewhere. He wanted to study journalism, he said. ????????? (He MUST mean sportscasting, which he cannot possibly realize is BRUTALLY competitive and quite difficult, actually, but it’s a moot point, as you will soon see) but he decided against that because “the money isn’t there” (more uggghhhh don’t get me started uggghhhh), so now he’s in finance. OF COURSE YOU ARE.
Thanks to a merciful bus god, he ran out of topics of sober conversation and/or by taking out her phone, she signalled they were done, whatever… and there was basically no more talking the rest of the uneventful ride.
Happily, my seat mate was polite, skinny and asleep, so basically the second-best option to invisible, which wasn’t really an option on this trip.