Pointless 24 Hours; No. 3

There is no doubt in my mind (not the band, that would be uncomfortable) that yesterday was St. Valentine's Day. Spending it this year, as I did, with my bro and his mrs, I took some time out to remember the various Valentine's Days that I've spent with very special individuals in the past. I think that possibly the most special and intimate occasion was last year, upon which myself and the ever delightful Jon Hill enjoyed each other's company whilst watching 'good' band, the Bravery. Wow, what a night.

The last day or so have been good, very very good indeed. I arrived in Nashville, Tennessee, or 'Music City' as they have frivourously branded it. It has given me a bit of time to chill out as they say, whiling away hours at a time watching an illegally young Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen in episodes of 'Full House'. Also I've watched my fair share of man hours of 'That's So Raven', or 'Fat's So Raven' as I've hilariously changed it to because the eponymous character has piled on the pounds somewhat. It's a dangerous game to watch so much of that program though, because every time that Raven falls over, or dresses up in a silly costume, or gats some Gs with her nine, you find your self saying "Oh, that is so Raven". But then this translates and extrapolates to real life, so that when my sister-in-law Leslee returns home from work and falls down and breaks her knees off, I just sit there and smile saying "Oh, that is so Leslee" as opposed to calling the relevant emergency service.

I don't feel right being too rejoiceful over my last couple of days. I feel like I need to dampen the mood a little, Adam Marshall style. Therefore, I give to thee a run down, in reverse order of course, of the three most pointless 24 hour periods of my life. Should be a hoot.

3. At 9.35pm on Saturday the 11th of February 2006, I arrived at Richmond bus station in the state of Virginia. I had just spent about one and a half hours traveling there on a Greyhound bus from Washington D.C. I would have to, I was told, wait about an hour before the bus heading towards Nashville was due to leave. The weather outside however, was snowing heavily with the promise of even heavier snow to come. And this sometimes romanticized climate condition was the root of all problems for the next 24 hours.

At 10.30pm the bus was cancelled with 'inclement' weather taking the blame. But no matter, I thought, the next bus is at 30 minutes after midnight. Only a bit of a delay really. Ben and Leslee could still fry me a kipper, I'll be home for breakfast. So I bought myself a book of Sudoku and settled down to rattle my way through some of those bad boys for the next couple of hours.

At about 12:15am, I was within spitting distance of completing the first puzzle, the public address system guy spat out some rather disturbing news. The news was as follows: "The 12.30 service through Tennessee is cancelled due to inclement weather". Humbug I thought, as anything stronger might offend my blog readers/reader/mum. A few other travelers felt stronger, and vocalized this strength to the incompetent customer services guy. He responded with malice: "Correction. Due to inclement weather, all services until further notice have been cancelled". "Bam", I knew he wanted to add but restrained himself.

'In for a long wait, I am', I said in my best Yoda voice (in my head), and as always, my Yoda voice was right. I discovered that the next bus due was at 5.30am, ouch. I thought that in that time, I may as well get some sleep. The problem with such a plan was the sheer amount of social rejects and dregs of society who littered the establishment in which I wished to slumber. I wrapped the straps of my knapsack around my arm, and placed my suitcase inaccessibly between myself and the wall. I thought about putting my passport and wallet down my underpants, after all from my life's experience no person was likely to put their hand down there (self deprecating burn. Bam). But then I realized that comfort held higher priority at that point than security or that joke, so I didn't bother. I settled down to score some Zs on the dirty dirty floor and passed out immediately.

I was awoken a few hours later, with limbs still in tact, with a reminder that all services Tennessee-wards were cancelled, and a confirmation that this was to include the 5:30 journey. "Gosh and bother", I exclaimed, still censoring my words. I decided to spend this portion of my time just watching the retards in front of me. One guy continually did the exploding nose thing that sportsmen do, straight on to the floor. One dad repeatedly did beat boxing in an effort to make his baby son dance. One lovely young lady kept shouting at random people for no reason. Too many people were wearing their jeans with the waist band barely above their knees, and thus the crotch area virtually dragging on the floor. As if this doesn't look stupid enough anyway, it also makes them waddle when they walk and thus they end up looking like akin to when people amusingly put shoes on their knees, kneel down, and then walk around like they've got little legs.

When I tell you that the 12:30pm bus was then cancelled I know that you will all hold a worry as to my loneliness. Well don't worry, one group of people noticed that I was kicking it on my own and took me under their wing as a kind of mascot. Yep, I counted myself sooooo lucky that the group of about 8 tramps who had entered the bus station to escape the hideous weather felt the need to keep me company. After all I had another 5 hours until the next scheduled bus, so it was a bonus that their 'funny' jokes and stories about life on the street came at that time.

I was even more please for their company when that bus was cancelled. Inclement weather was the cause apparently. The tramps soon got bored of my expressionless face and nonplussed responses to their banter, and mercifully left me alone again. This gave me the chance to half complete another couple of Japanese number puzzles and try to name the 50 U.S. states. I did well, only missing Oklahoma, New Hampshire, Iowa, and West Virginia.

Anyway, to make a really long story euthanasiasticly a little shorter, by 8.20pm the inclement weather had apparently passed. Just less than 23 hours after arriving in Richmond, Virginia I was on a bus about to embark upon a 13 hour Greyhound journey to Nashville, Tennessee.

Ok, that's it. Considering I've dubbed it a pointless 24 hours, it took me a hell of a lot of words to describe it. Massive apologies for that. I'll do numbers 2 and indeed 1 later on. Don't get your hopes up, they aren't gonna be any more interesting than what you've just read/skimmed/skipped.

Kind regards.

Adam Marshall