Buses: Part 4

Essay by spoonman419High School, 11th grade July 2004

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After my bus had arrived, and we rolled out of the station, we passed by the Grassy Knoll where Kennedy was shot. I was somewhat overwhelmed by this, my first major landmark. I'd remember this, I knew, for the rest of my life. The sensation that went through me I can only try to explain, in that it felt like my heart had exploded and quickly reformed while my lungs simultaneously collapsed. I knew then that surely this was the purpose of my life: To live and see everything I could. Yes, to live.

However, the rest of the bus ride was relatively dull, except for a group of people sitting a few rows behind me. The group consisted of a couple of guys my age and a short blonde woman in her forties. Through out the ride they were very loud, and kept making tons of sex jokes. I didn't see any of them standing together at the station, so it was fate I assumed, that brang them to sit together.

I wasn't particularly annoyed at how incredibly obnoxious they were being as the rest of the passengers seemed to be, but I was more entertained by them than anything. They gave my mind something to concentrate on, and I was thankful. At the next piss stop I got off and bummed a cigarette from the kid closest to my age, and after we struck up a conversation I asked him if he'd be interested in buying a joint of KB for ten bucks. He upped for it and he got his fat joint of bud, which he told me he'd share with the middle-aged lady, seeing as how she was heading to Chicago because her brother had died there from a massive heart attack just days ago. The...