When I mused about Binghamton, NY, and the weekend of September 25-27, I had a plan, though only part of it took place. This happened instead.
(This, by necessity, is in parts because the damn thing went 1800 words.)
PLANNED: Friday, September 25: I was writing a Sunday Stealing post, but I ran out of time. But I’m taking the laptop; I’ll finish it later. Right?
PLANNED: I was going to get a ride from a friend, but she’s taking care of a dear friend of hers, whom I know.
NEW PLAN: Once upon a time, I could take a bus from Albany to Binghamton, but that’s what popped up. So I took a Greyhound bus to Syracuse, but it’s not the familiar vehicle. It’s a FlixBus. What? “Flix SE acquired Greyhound Lines Inc. in 2021. Having already been present in the North American market with its FlixBus services since 2018, the purchase of Greyhound brought together two leaders of the bus industry, combining FlixBus’s innovative global technology and expertise with Greyhound’s iconic legacy and nationwide network.”
But this bus is much less comfortable, with less legroom and narrower seats than the old-line Greyhound buses I’ve ridden. Oh, it has numbered and assigned seats. They printed the seat numbers and placed them near the stingy overhead space. Humorously, they printed 13A/13B and 13D/13C; someone at the bus company changed the 13s to 14s because, obviously, Flix is superstitious. My seat 14A was right behind 12A, very near the bathroom.
I get to Syracuse, buy a Subway sub, but don’t eat it because I have to get on the bus to Binghamton, and the space is not conducive to eating. There have been a number of people on both buses who I assume were Amish; some of the men were wearing those Weird Al hats.
Parlor City
When I got to town, I gathered the cane, the sandwich, and a couple of other things. I’m trying to get off the bus, but one of the Amish guys who got on in Syracuse is trying to get back on because he just wanted to stretch his legs, or whatever. So he moves to my right, and I pass him on my left as I go to the station.
NOT IN THE PLAN: My friend in Binghamton, Cee, meets me and asks where my suitcase is. Oh crap. It’s still on the bus! And the bus has already left for New York City with my clothes, laptop, knee brace, electric toothbrush, etc.
(Note: I’m blaming the Amish guy; I’m blaming bus fatigue. But it’s possible that if I had turned RIGHT off the bus, I would have seen the opened luggage compartment.)
After a not-too-brief period of self-loathing, I go to the Flix/Greyhound window. The guy was sympathetic, but said I should call the company, and they would tell me to contact them online, which is what happened. I did, reported the incident, but I had no confidence that anything would happen.
I pulled out my phone, checked my contacts, and found someone with a 212 area code. I’ve met Andrea – we saw Rebecca Jade on Long Island together in 2021. Could she go to the corner of 31st Street and 8th Avenue in Manhattan at 7:20 p.m. and get my suitcase? (It’s not at a station.) She said yes, but extorted me for a bottle of wine.
Did I mention that I hate shopping?
NOT IN THE PLAN: Now what? Cee took me to Boscov’s, a department store, where I bought $150 of clothes. During this, my sister Leslie had spoken to her friend and Binghamton cousins, one of whom called while trying to find apparel in a store I’ve almost never shopped in, under stressful circumstances. So when my cousin says, “How’s the family?” I replied, “I’m sorry, but I have no bandwidth for that, ” which she seemed to understand.
GOTTA EAT: Cee, her husband, and I went out to a casual Thai restaurant. Pretty decent.
I stayed at their house. While I went to sleep, I woke up at least four times. Someone turn this man’s brain off, please.
