(Written on the bus Friday night while en route to the train.)

So I'm waiting at the train station for the bus, and this obviously drunk and very crazy guy is also waiting for it. He's cussing up a storm (one of those every third word is "fuck" guys), having a "Hey, don't you fucking look at me!" conversation with someone who isn't there, screaming about how he talks to Jesus (and I just bet he talks back), and he will not shut up.

And wouldn't you know it that the bus is very late. Forty minutes, to be precise.

One other guy waiting for the bus, who was probably twice CDG's size, tried asking nicely ("I mean no disrespect") to get him to shut up. This only prompted even more screaming and swearing, with "I hate that guy! I don't wanna ride on the bus with him!" now thrown into his usual repertoire. Which shows you how much good it does when you try to talk to a crazy person- i.e. absolutely nothing, plus it makes it a whole lot worse on you. Not worth it. I stayed quiet, pretending to read and ignoring him as best I could (not very).

Eventually, Guy #2 and I figured out that when CDG noticed I was around (oh, the joys of being the only girl there), he cooled it a bit on the swearing. So Guy #2 says to me, "Just let me know if you want me to say something to him." I said "Any time you want to." That was my mistake. Guy #2's was going to try to talk to CDG again.

I don't know who started it, but when I turned around, they were brawling, just as the bus arrived. I ran away to the bus. The door opened up, and I got in and told the driver "Two guys are fighting out there, and they were going to go on this bus. One of them's crazy."

"Drunk?"

"Yeah."

"Then why don't you go take care of it?"

I stared at him in shock. The fuck? Me, an itty bitty girl, take care of guys fighting? Was he nuts? I then looked over and saw the Amtrak guy from the station trying to break it up. I don't know what happened to Guy #2, but CDG made a run for the bus and hopped on. He sat down right in front of me, and I got up and ran to the back end of the bus.

"I wanna get to LA!" he kept screaming. "My brother's dying!"

"You are NOT getting on this bus drunk. You're getting off." The driver was on one side of his seat, the station guy on the other. CDG refused to get off, yelling "You're taking me with you!"

"You're making these people late! They may not make their train!" Oh SHIT. It was already 6:30, when the second bus I was supposed to make in Sac was supposed to be leaving. The train departs around 7:35 when on time.

Then the station guy said "If you get off right now quietly and go away for awhile, we can get you another ticket to LA. If you don't, I am calling the cops and they are taking you to jail!"

"I wanna go to LA!"

That's when we found out their relationship was a little more personal than we would have figured.

"I let you sleep around here!" the station guy yelled. Which would explain why I'd seen CDG, presumably still crazy but more sober and quiet, hanging around the station on Thursday afternoon. "No more lending you scissors to cut your hair! This is the last straw! You get off quietly right now, 'cause this is your last chance with me!"

CDG got off.

PHEW.

At least they arranged to have this bus go directly to Stockton after this shit, but I am now glad that I won't be taking Amtrak to Dave's again for awhile. I'm feeling scared right now between CDG and wondering if we'll miss the train and I'll be stranded in Stockton and knowing I don't have enough change on me (and my emergency phone card is somehow dead) to call Dave if I have to. And shit, NOW I want a cell phone because he is gonna be freaking out if I don't show up. Damn, I wish he'd been here to protect me. Now I'm fearing for the weekend and wondering if I should have just stayed home hiding under the covers for three days. I hope this weekend isn't as shitty as it's started out to be.

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