Where I was lost...

Not in the philosophical, soul searching sense of the word. More in the "Where the fuck am I?" sense of the word.

Now the details.

Circa January second 2005. Well, no circa, exactly on January second 2005, our intrepid hero (me) decided to return to State College from the wilds of New Jersey (also known as Newark). By Greyhound. Bad idea. (Note to self: next time drive back).

The bus arrives an hour late, and as I enter I hear the driver apologizing to the passengers exiting (debussing?), for the tour of the city. I would later find out what that would mean.
The journey starts of normally enough and I drowse off. I wake up an hour later and we still are not on the freeway. I decide to display mild, drowsy surprise which makes me look like I have been drinking steadily for a few hours.

Our villain (the bus driver) now pulls into a gas station and gets down to ask directions. Not a smart move. For two reasons. The first being that it was Newark, and the second being that the mob (the other passengers) were rapidly becoming very, very restive. Imagine a mob of peasants circa 1692 in Salem, only more violent and bloodthirsty. Baying for blood.

The driver returns and proceeds to get further lost. The mob is now rapidly losing patience, sounds of knives being sharpened and teeth being gnashed can be heard in the fuzzy darkness. Another half hour passes by. Finally, a lady loses her patience and being a native Newarker, begins to shout out directions to the hapless driver. And amazingly we reach I-80 in no time at all.

End of story.

And what was our intrepid hero doing? Laughing his ass off, much to the ire of the rather strait laced dude sitting next to him.