Day 23: Dayton (again)

Jesus Christ.  I got up in the cold bleak pre-dawn like a good child to catch my 7am bus back to Dayton.  By 10am, our driver was still MIA.  Got on route around 10:30, and I’m frankly not sure whether I prefer to believe that he was just asleep or on drugs prior to hopping into the driver’s seat, or that he was telling the truth about the bugs that were apparently on the bus he was originally given.


I stood on the corner by the bus station waiting for my friend to pick me up, and I’m fairly sure a couple of dudes at least wondered if I were a hooker, except I was wearing gym shorts, a pink flannel and torn-up sneakers.  “Ay, girl, you good?”  “Uh, yeah.  I’m good. Thanks.”

Tomorrow Springfield, Monday Columbus.  It occurs to me that soon enough I will need to exchange some bagspace for cooler-weather clothes.  I am pleased about the incipient autumn, but will have to condense my wardrobe further.  Fair trade.

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