The BoltBus from Boston to Manhattan promised to be packed the Friday afternoon before Memorial Day weekend. To ensure we would find space for our considerable baggage, we rocked up early, first on line. To our surprise, we were put in the ‘C’ line for being too stupid to realise that if we merely had agreed to receive BoltBus spam, we’d have been given ‘A’ line preferential boarding status.
Our ‘C’ line status became a potential problem when several smug, preppy college types sauntered up, taking their rightful place in the ‘A’ line, with big bags and bicycles and kayaks and sousaphones and farm equipment and the contents of at least one dormitory room. At the last minute a dumpy, haggard, middle-aged man joined them in the ‘A’ line, looking rather out of place. Continue reading BoltBus Jitters