Ahh the bus, everyones favourite (and cheapest) method of transport. You know that stereotype that Hart of Dixie gave us about guys spitting their tobacco into an empty water bottle next to you while smelling like they’ve never heard of a shower… that’s a real thing. So far in my time in the States, I’ve caught the bus in the North and in the South and there is a massive difference in the people you meet and the quality of the bus that you are on. My bus ride was basically a scene from a hybrid of duck dynasty and teen mom, down to the flannel shirts, beards and pregnant smokers, and it’s never a good start when the person sitting next to you for the next 8 hours looks over at you with your passport in hand and says;
“Oh, you’re not from here?.. Americans love you foreigners, y’know wh’I’m sayin’ (insert wink here)”
While I caught the bus from Georgia to Florida, I thought the creepiness would end in Orlando, the land of family fun and disney, but I was wrong. Today I went on an adventure to the local mall where I had to catch 2 buses and wait outside an outlet 45 minutes for a transfer. Now I have no problem with public transport, I’ve done it in London, Paris, Barcelona, Rome, Venice, Brisbane, Melbourne, Sydney and a million and one other places. But, this was next level creepy. Imagine two James-Franco-in-Spring-Breakers wanna-be’s with their pants down their arses, Ed Hardy wife beaters poking through their hawaiian shirts, bling bling around their neck and in their mouths and the latest fake nike air’s:
Now imagine the following conversation (we’ll name them creep 1 and creep 2 because I didn’t stick around long enough to ask names);
Creep 1: Oh sh*t, you’re beautiful
Me: (looks awkwardly sidewards) uh thank you?
Creep 2: Gurl, sh*t, you have an accent, where you from girl?
Me: Australia
Creep 1: Well, I’m single (creepy wink – like seriously, what is with that wink down south?)
Creep 2: Yeah, we both single and we both like foreigners, y’know wh’I’m sayin’
Me: Uh, I have a boyfriend (flat out lie)
Creep 1: That don’t matter gurl…
#no
To make matters worse, my mum just sent me a message saying: “Apparently there is an app that tells you where sex offenders are in Florida.” #murica. Well, thank you creeps of Florida, it’s been a blast and hopefully we will not meet again as I head off to Harry Potter world later in the week. Till soon.
Twenty-six letters 