On the road, with a travel mug

Americans fly a lot for a good reason. This is a damn big country, and I’m sitting in a bus, facing a 14-hour ride that will merely move me from the East Coast to lake Ontario.

I would try to make conversation with the other passengers, but they are all encapsulated in their little bubbles deploying various strategies to fight boredom. There are few people on board anyway, so we all spread out and took double seats. A nearby couple has been smooching for a while and doing whatever it is they are doing underneath a big coat. At least they are quiet and whatever noise they do make is muffled by the engines. Another guy has been sleeping for the last five hours across the aisle from me, even though we boarded the bus at 9.30am. Guess he stayed up last night. One thing for sure, his neck will hurt because his head has been bouncing around aimlessly for five hours.

I’ve carved my little kingdom and stretch my legs into the aisle. I watch movies in my computer until the battery runs out, and then look out the window for entertainment. Except that all is covered in snow, and as far as I can tell, there isn’t much to see in upstate New York. Maybe summer is prettier, but for now, all I see are rolling hills covered in snow, and the occasional billboard.

After five hours on the road, the driver announces a pit stop. We will have 1.5 hours to stretch our legs, eat lunch and do “whatever it is that you need to do” according to the driver. That is a loose sentence with plenty of room for interpretation.

I step off the bus, but realize I’m in the middle of nowhere. We are at a gas station, and there is a McDonald’s and a minimart attached. Walking anywhere is useless, unless you like walking knee-deep in snow looking for a few remaining blackberries still on the bush.

I walk into an unexpectedly crowded McDonald’s. There are several families, fighting to keep their children under control. These parents expect a child to continue sitting still even after several hours of sitting in a car. And they give them sugary drinks on top of it. Good luck with that.

I walk over and order a burger sans the fries. Then I find a spot at the counter facing the window and munch on my mystery meat with tomatoes, lettuce and healthy dose of mayo. Cars come and go. This place is an oasis in the middle of nowhere.

I notice that McDonald’s has espresso machines, and decide to caffeinate myself ahead of the ride.

“Can I get a latte in here please?”, I say to the girl while handing her my travel mug.

She looks puzzled.

She continues to look puzzled.

“Carrie, could you come to the front?” She announces into the loudspeaker.

A plump woman in her forties arrives, and she shows her my travel mug.

I gather they don’t know what to charge me. Finally, Carrie makes an executive decision and pours me a medium latte in a paper cup, which she then dumps into my travel mug. So much for the environment. At least the insulated walls will keep my drink hot, and the spill-proof cap will prevent me from showering my fellow bus riders with coffee at some bumpy turn.

While Carrie is busy pushing buttons away into the automatic espresso maker, I continue the transaction at the till.

“That will be a medium latte. 2.78 please”

I hand her a five.

“From five…and will that be for here or to go?”

I look at her in puzzlement, but she repeats the question.

“For here or to go?

“In the cup please,” I say.

“Yes, but will that be for here or to go.”

“I’ll take my travel mug with me.”

She tries to ask me a third time, but I use a small pause to take a step back and collect my mug from the coffee station. She gets it.

I return to the counter, where I kill time until it’s time to board the bus and continue for another eight hours until my destination. That McDonald’s was an oasis in the middle of nowhere — I don’t see any signs of human activity for quite a while and it’s getting dark. I take a sip of my coffee, and settle down to watch another movie. At least I recharged my battery.