The Mexico City Bus Trip

I was thinking about my parents today. More specifically, I was thinking about a bus trip that we all took together from Guanajuato to Mexico City in 1988.

So let's see, the bus driver was sleepy. That's a good place to start. It was a night drive. My mom stayed up with him, sitting on the metal rail next to his seat, talking to him in Spanish about whoknowswhat, and wiping the windshield with her bandanna every few minutes. The windshield wipers were sleepy, too.

Dad stayed in the back with us where, let's see... oh yah, Mary Lee (11 years old) peed in her jacket because there were no bathrooms and few rest stops on this overnight bus ride. Let me make myself a bit more clear: she took off her purple/midnight blue jacket, made it like a diaper, and went for it. At 3am, this seemed like a great decision.

Ang (9), Tim (3), and I (6) kept ourselves busy playing MASH. When we asked Tim, who he wanted to put in his "WHO WILL YOU MARRY?" section, he said

"Dick."

"Ok, Tim."

Sarah, just newly a teenager, was preoccupied waiting for her breasts to get bigger. She may have been crocheting a pink vest, as well.

Morning rolled around and we all felt accomplished. Our trip was almost over. Soon we would be in Mexico City. Ooh, Mexico City. I was gonna buy a shitload of candy and probably a Robocop doll. I remember staring out the big dirty windows, trying to match up the water spots to other drivers' faces. Then...

"Angie! Look at the huge tire! Haha! It's racing us."

It was, and winning at that. Hmm. Strange.

The bus started to rock, slightly. It is uncanny how well a huge bus can hide the fact that one of its wheels has decided to venture out on its own.

The rescue bus pulled up about 2 hours later, full of confused, yet welcoming passengers.
When we got inside, we realized just how nice and roomy our last piece of shit bus had been. My dad systematically began picking each one of us up and placing us carefully on random bus riders' laps.

Mexico City was incredible. I think. I don't really remember that part. But the point I'm trying to make is WHAT THE HECK?! seriously, WHAT THE HECK?!

If they could get through that catastrophe, then what was so damaged that they couldn't stay together? They were a team. We all were. And I know I don't understand, yet, but come on. The bus that was falling apart should have been some kind of glue for them... some kind of cheesy metaphor.

Whatever, it's late and my mind is wandering. I'm gonna go read some William Meredith and try to feel like everything makes sense.