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It's 8:00 pm and I'm sitting in the Tucson bus station even though my bus doesn't leave till 10:15 because the last city bus came by my plce at 7:30 pm. It's not too busy right now but people will probably start showing up by 9:00 or 9:30 as there are buses both ways after 10:00. The station has a bunch of nice native pots way up high along some windows at the ceiling. I don't know how authentic they are but they look nice. I do hope they're fastened in some way.
There's a guy here in a wheelchair and a Greyhound lady was talking with him so maybe he'll be on the bus. There were all the protests a few years ago to get wheelchairs on the buses and Greyhound got buses with lifts but I haven't ridden on a bus yet that had a wheelchair user on it.
Two little kids are finding the Kermit tag to be very interesting. I've also added some yellow tape to the handles of my bag to try and distinguish it from all the other identical black bags that everyone has. This isn't such a big problem as when you take the plane as people who ride buses seem to be more likely to use something they've had for years and years.
Damn, I had the front set and then they asked me to move to put the wheelchair guy on. By then the only seat left was way in the back but I'll be ok since I'll be sleeping most of the way to Los Angeles and I've certainly seen the sights often enough. This bus doens't have a lift so they have to carry the poor guy up. I think you have to reserve about 48 hours ahead for the lift or the buses with the lifts were too far away. We're off and heading up I-10 to Phoenix. Finally leaving is always so exciting. I'm like a kid going on a trip with visions of adventure dancing in my head, not that I would appreciate a real adventure that much since they tend to involve danger and discomfort, but any traveling is an adventure to me.