Saturday, Sept. 24 8:36 p.m.
Go Badgers.
10 p.m.
Total passengers: four. Average age of passenger: 56. Party.
10:15 p.m.
Enter: a trio of scraggly-looking guys, the obvious ringleader playing a harmonica, his sidekicks each wearing original-style black Vans and bobbing their heads awkwardly to his putsy music.
10:25 p.m.
Mr. Harmonica has groupies'four of them, to be exact, and they all look the same. Surprise'small jeans, exposed thongs and cleavage. I wonder if they all think they need their sunglasses at night. Thank God they look cute.
10:35 p.m.
Behind me, some frat boys talk:
'You ever been beat up before? I've been beat up before. You deserve it? ?? Fuckin' prick, I know dude '??
[Unannounced subject change] 'Are the girls here really that bad'?
'As a rule of thumb, the farther north you go '?? the conversation is sadly interrupted by a vibrating cell phone. Darn, I was curious. The conversation quickly picks back up: 'This bus is full of drunk kids.'
'It's Wisconsin, dude. What do you expect'?
10:40 p.m.
The last of the original four passengers remain, seated in the middle of a pack of stumbling kids and a steady flow of obscenities: a sleeping, gray-haired woman with a canvas library-lady tote bag around her shoulder and a romance novel still open in her lap. Apparently, she's a heavy sleeper.
11:15 p.m.
In the middle of a completely packed moment on the bus, my cell phone vibrates in my hand and a familiar voice behind me squeals: 'SARAH! It's AJ! Back here?? are you doing homework?!'
The crowd around us looks at me awkwardly while I explain that I'm actually watching all of them in all of their drunken stupidity.
11:35 p.m.
On our sixth stop at University Avenue and Lake Street, two lovebirds stumble their way from the Madhatters doorway to the front of the bus.
'Where's the cheapest hotel you got'? the male slurs to the bus driver as the two slide into the front seat, one on top of the other. I'm not sure if he's trying to spoon her or pass out on her. I'm also not sure she cares.
Midnight
I wonder if the hotel couple notices they have been around the bus loop twice already.
12:10 a.m.
Apparently, bus railings are the college student's variation of our childhood jungle gyms. See photos, right and below, for further explanation.
12:15 a.m.
'The closest hotel is right up the street,' the driver smugly announces to the couple, loud enough for the entire bus to hear. Without a doubt, the highlight of my night.
