On September 18th, seven Rib writers and some add-ons from Skorts Sketch Comedy caravanned down to Philadelphia to attend LaughtHERfest Pt. 2, the second year of a women-in-comedy festival hosted by the Bloomers at the University of Pennsylvania. We spent a day there attempting improv, soaking up knowledge from a writer of Kimmy Schmidt, worshipping at the feet of comics working toward social change, and watching female stand-ups so ~inspiring~ that my grandma had to cover her ears. There are probably multiple detailed agendas available that might chart our morning expeditions for rare donuts, recount our exploits at the after party, or enumerate the blocks we angsty-fast-walked down during a temporary prop crisis.
This is not. That. Detailed. Agenda. This is the detailed agenda of the day after — Sunday, the 19th — or the day of the planned return trip back, when I awoke to find myself left behind by my Brown compatriots, and was forced to make my way back to Providence alone, using only my wits, an enormous amount of grits (stuck in my teeth from breakfast) and USD’s, from my bank account, which I can access to buy things like bus tickets and stuff.
Disclaimer: The following log was written in real time and only gently edited.
7:00 am: Emma’s Apartment, Philadelphia PA
I hear a soft whispering and the padding of feet. They sound excited! I am mostly asleep. “Mmm, spaghettis,” I dream.
8:30 am — Emma’s Apartment, Philadelphia PA
My alarm wakes me. Nice! I am surprised to see that I’ve been sleeping on an uncovered twin air mattress with my friend and host, because asleep, I was imagining myself on a large bed, with spaghetti. Skorts sisters Rachael and Daniella, who had been sleeping in the bed the night before, are gone. “Good thing I’m catching the late car back,” is what I think as I call Annie for updates. “Aren’t you in the car with Cameron?” Annie asks, as I text Cameron. “Aren’t you in the car with Annie?” texts Cam. What a classic parallel sentence set-up!
I am not in the cars. I am on a twin air mattress in Philadelphia. The late car is 40 minutes away, and the signals I’m getting over the phone are that the option of turning around to get me is not on the table. I am the upside down smiley face emoji.
8:40 am — Emma’s Apartment, Philadelphia PA
I have devoted too many of my funds to Bagel Gourmet to afford a train ticket or a direct bus trip back. Peter Pan, your name is so trashy, what makes you think you can charge almost as much as Amtrak?? Amtrak has a dining car and business people use it! I decide to purchase tickets for a two-part Megabus journey. I buy two tickets but type in my credit card information 5 times because the “continue” button is the same shape and color as “back.”
8:45 am — Bathroom, Emma’s Apartment, Philadelphia PA
I catch my myself in the mirror. Perfect. I always love how I look, right girls?! No need to comment here!
9:00 am – Metropolitan Café, Philadelphia PA
Emma and I go to breakfast. People stare at me because they know I have been left behind. The lady at the cash register tells me “Good job” for paying with cash, and I shed one tear for her kindness, feeling loved again. If I were her daughter, she would love me so fucking hard.
9:15 am — Metropolitan Café, Philadelphia PA
I thank my stomach for reminding me that I am hungover and therefore do not deserve to enjoy food.
10:30 am — Emma’s Apartment, Philadelphia PA
Final sweep of the room for my things before I go to catch my bus. Close call on the sunglasses! But I would never leave something behind that is so important and good to me, even though they are silent and bad at communication.
11:15 am — 30th Street Station, Philadelphia PA
I make it to my 11:15 bus. Cutting it close, but I didn’t make it as fast as I expected because I had to stop to wave at babies, and then take pictures of them when their parents weren’t looking to Snapchat to friends.
11:20 am – Megabus #1, Philadelphia PA
No headphones in my bag. Because I am a car-sick reader, I prepare to be entertained and eventually horrified by my thoughts for the next 7 hours of my trip.
12:00 pm — Megabus #1
Due to my hangover, I am suffering from “dry mouth.” The man sitting in front of me is suffering from “dry.” He is so boring, and is talking about bus wheels. I listen to him speak for the next two hours.
1:40 pm — Midtown, New York, NY
We are late arriving. I think I should still have time to grab a sammy from Pret A Manger before catching Megabus #2 for Providence, because I have unrealistic expectations for how quickly my legs can take me places due to a lifetime of being told by teachers that I walk “with purpose” (aka I walk like a dweeb).
1:45 pm — Pret A Manger, New York NY
The sammy choices are endless AND — they’re all healthy, too. How do I…? I take five minutes to decide while I Snapchat friends.
1:50 pm — Pret a Manger, New York NY
I will not make it on time to my 2:15 pm Megabus by foot. I have to call an Uber. Vlasislov is seven minutes away.
2:03 pm — Vlasislov’s ride, New York NY
Vlasislov is P to the O’d because my Uberpool sharer is a “strange woman who doesn’t know nothing about anything!” Vlasislov sounds exactly like a Chaos spy.
2:07 pm — Vlasislov’s ride, New York NY
Vlasislov cancels the fuck out of the strange woman.
2:10 pm — Vlasislov’s ride, New York NY
Vlasislov is not a Chaos spy. I know this because he has told me his life’s story, because it’s seven minutes into an uber ride and that’s just how it goes. He’d like to move to Rhode Island, which is “the real American dream, not this shitty New York.” Silly Vlasislov. He obviously hasn’t watched Broad City. New York is just like your quirky friend, who can be a driving character in the narrative of your life if you just gallivant around in it enough saying “vayinya” and being reckless about your safety.
2:13 pm — Vlasislov’s ride, New York NY
I am not worried about missing my 2:15 pm bus. I do not believe in consequences to my actions because I am 21, so I assume my bus probably has mechanical issues and will still be there when I get to the stop. That’s why I’m not panicking and am calm and engaged in Vlasislov’s story about taxes.
2:18 pm — 34th Street, between 11th & 12th Ave, New York NY
My bus to Providence is not at its stop. There is no line of people waiting. There is one lady, standing by the “Providence” sign, on her phone, laughing. She tells me she’s just getting in from Philadelphia, and waiting for a ride. She asks if I’d like to come with her, and I accept. Her name is Virginia, and she takes me home to her resplendent apartment. There is gold plating everywhere, and a full hog’s head on the dining room table. She is a modern queen, and I am her princess, and this is the only thing I know to be true as I stand paralyzed in a dream trance on the curb, with my bag in my hand, and my eyes dry with confusion. I will not make it home for dinner.
2:20 pm — 34th Street, between 11th & 12th Ave, New York NY
“That guy in the green vest” lets me get on a bus to Boston, as long as I pay for another ticket. It is one of those situations where he’s speaking quietly, and I have to lean in to ask him to repeat everything he says, so I feel like I shouldn’t try to barter for a refund because it would take too much time and maybe I’ve just heard him wrong and he’s actually trying to give me a cake?? If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s never to trust my own ears when conversing with a man.
2:30 pm — Megabus #2, New York NY
I am on my way to Boston on Megabus #2. I am not “accomplishing” any “work” because I am “hungover” and have “been wronged” by the “man.”
2:45 pm — Megabus #2
Time to take out that sammy. Surprise, surprise — it’s HELLA flavorful and makes me want to puke. I eat the whole thing plus graham crackers.
3:30 pm — Megabus #2
My one refuge from my own mind is Twitter. I read it between nausea burps.
2:55 pm — Megabus #2
Bus #2 is almost completely quiet. This bitch in front of me will NOT shut up. She is about 2 years old and keeps screaming “Mickey Mouse” at the top of her lungs over and over, but with different inflections. Sometimes it’s like, “Mickey Mouse……….?”
3:35 pm — Megabus #2
I get a text message. It is from Verizon. I have “run out of cellular data.” I take a moment to myself to gently lay the man from the Verizon commercials on the ground, and direct Hannibal Burress to crawl like a baby back and forth on top of his body, elbows and nails digging it at all the most uncomfortable places. (“Oh, hey girl, why are you in such a weird place right now,” you ask? Idk, shhhhhh.)
5:00 pm — Megabus #2
Determining how long I’ve been asleep by the progress of The Revenant playing on this guy’s iPhone sitting in front of me. I am Leo.
5:21 pm — Megabus #2
I’m starting to romanticize Providence. They serve dancing gumdrops at the Ratty, right?
7:00pm — Megabus #2
I’m awake!
7:30pm — Megabus #2, Boston MA
Bus #2 is pulling into a cement port in Boston. I push past everyone trying to get out in front of me. Mickey Mouse screams for me to come back. I am running and leaping. I will never return to Megabus #2.
7:35pm — Megabus #2, Boston MA
I am on Megabus #2. I forgot my bag in the luggage compartment in my ecstasy. Megabus #2 driver does not want my profuse “Thank you’s.” His droopy eyes say, “Why do you not rest, my child?”
7:40 pm — South Street Station, Boston MA
From the message board I see that the next train back to Providence does not leave until 8:45 pm. I allow myself to cry two tears, but I DON’T call my mom. I am surrounded by little train station food shops, and there are so few reasons good enough to cry in front of a Pinkberry.
7:55 pm — South Street Station, Boston MA
My cell phone and last connection to my old life is at 2% battery, and all of the power outlets in the train station have been covered with military-grade padlocks. Because that is one of the meanest things I can imagine any institution deigning to do. The grandfatherly man at Information tells me that there is “no access anywhere.” I decide this would qualify as a reason good enough to cry in front of a Pinkberry, but I don’t because I don’t want to give Information man the satisfaction.
8:07 pm — South Street Station, Boston MA
My debit card is declined at the McDonalds. At McDonalds, they never judge, and I think that would be a great slogan for them. I pay for my coffee in all coins like my grandma does.
8:30 pm — South Street Station, Boston MA
I can’t remember any facts about my childhood, or any of my favorite things. I want to change my name to Wanderfeather.
8:45 pm — South Street Station, Boston MA
The train is the key! I will board the train. The train will tell me who I am. The train will make me whole.
9:01 pm — MBTA Commuter Rail, outer space
If I had a bike right now, folks, y’all don’t even KNOW how fast I’d be flyin’.
9:02 pm — MBTA Commuter Rail, Baz Luhrman’s mind
The lighting in this car is pickle juice. When was the last time I laughed?
10:00 pm — MBTA Commuter Rail, middle school
Thoughts are getting daaaaaarrrkkk friendsssssss
10:20 pm – Amtrak Station, Providence RI
I have resurfaced. “There are no ubers available.” It would make ABSOLUTELY no sense in the context of this day if there were ubers available, so this feels ok. I watch a sex trafficking PSA playing on repeat on the station TV.
10:04pm — Amtrak Station, Providence RI
I refuse to pay the uber surge charge. I WILL WAIT FOR YOU VLASISLOV!!!
10:15pm — I have run out of space in my notebo
***At this point in time, I ran out of space in my notebook. Thank you for spending time with me today. So you may know, I made it back to my apartment at Brown safely on Sunday night due to the kindness of an uber driver who did not have a GPS nor speak English. I then took a hot shower and prayed for the first time in three years. The universe has since reimbursed me for my troubles by not charging me for a bag of nuts at the Starbucks yesterday. All in all, net positive experience. God Bless America! ***