As I write this blog entry, I sit in a Bolt Bus from Vegas to LA (more on that later). I became very excited when I realized there were only five other riders on the bus, and none of them young children. I sprawled out across the seat and got comfortable.
I was nearly falling asleep when I realized the bus was stopping. I completely forgot that there would be another stop near the Strip. Outside stood dozens of bros that climbed aboard. One guy in his early 20s yelled out to another, “let’s get some chicks pregnant!” Somehow after a long weekend in Vegas, there are still so many hormones pouring off these guys. They are behaving just as rowdy as they probably were on their ride to Vegas.
I did this to myself. I started prematurely celebrating an empty bus, even gloating to my friends taking a later Bolt Bus. I kept saying that I hoped there would be no fussy young children. There are no children, but I received my own personal hell instead.