On Reviewing Old Notebooks-Part 3: At the Bus Station

Object writing is a technique where you describe scenes or characters using various senses to capture important details.

Here is a piece I wrote in 2012.

At the Greyhound Station

I’m sitting in a long row of blue plastic seats-you know-the kind where each arm of the seat is connected to the one beside you-so that even if the person next to you slides onto your armrest you can’t get away.

The plastic is sticky from years of French fries and Coca-Cola being spilled onto the seat. Do you think they ever clean it? F*** no. It’s a Greyhound Station. Not the Ritz-Carlton.

Even though it is mid-day it’s not bright inside-the constant urban grime on the windows (inside and out) combined with light bulbs that are missing, broken, or flickering, gives some odd shadows and a haunted house feel even in the day time.

Have you ever smelled a bus station? It’s a gumbo of cheap perfume, body odor, stale coffee, cigarette smoke, month old oil in the French fryer, and diapers that need to be changed. Yuck. Combine that with a raspy cough from the ragged guy sitting behind you and it’s a wonder that no one gets sick. Maybe they do.

Every once in a while you’ll hear the VOICE announcing buses ready to leave-pronouncing each syllable crisply.

Number 17 southbound to You-Gene, Med-Ford, and Sac-Ra-Men-To.

Number 29 eastbound to Boy-See, O-Ma-Ha, and Shi-Ca-Go.

The ladies traveling alone gather up their duffel bags, blankets, and pillows and shuffle off to the doorway-some of them wearing fluffy house shoes they bought at K-Mart years ago.

Earlier writings in this series can be found here and here.

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