Once upon a time, I took a Greyhound bus to Florida.
Shut the fuck up and let me finish!
Anyway, couple years back, hopped a Hound. No real rhyme or reason, pretty much the same situation as when I moved out here to Cali, only I didn't get busted for possession on federal property. Pretty straightforward process though, you walk into the station, you buy your ticket, and you look around at all the other social rejects with whom you're going to be sharing a cramped, poorly ventilated tin can on wheels with for the next day or two. I vaguely recall a few guidelines, no drinking, no smoking (great idea when you're in close quarters with people who're just as pissed off about their station in life as you are, by the way) but for the most part, there wasn't a whole lot of jargon regarding the rules and regulations attached to the experience.
Well, apparently Greyhound needs to either see about getting the rights to the name "Meals On Wheels", or throw in an addendum to the passenger conduct expectations about not eating your seatmeat. For those of you who live under a rock or just plain have no fucking clue what's going on outside of your apartment, a few days ago a Chinese man who'd immigrated to Canada was apparently so fed up with hearing "Eh?" at the end of every sentence that he took it into his mind to make his seatmate's innards his...well, outtards.
In case I lost you there, let me clarify. A Canadian. Was Killed. On a Greyhound.
Am I the only person who couldn't wait to hit up YouTube and see if someone caught some video of this shit? The guy was Canadian, for fuck's sake! What could he have possibly done? Gotten so drunk on piss beer that he spilled maple syrup on the murderer's leg and only apologize fourteen times instead of twenty? Folks, I've met Canadians. Granted, the first one I met was a little dim, evidenced by proclaiming that she originally hailed from "Canadia" (sorry Missy, but it needed to be said), but I've never had an argument with one.
While sober.
So this guy, Tim McLean, is just sitting in his seat, probably thinking about maple leaves or some such Canadian nonsense, everyone's watching Zorro which had me floored the first time I heard the story, and Lee Wong Stabbyface over here goes ballistic and starts chest-fucking the poor guy with a knife. Obviously everyone on the bus panics, the driver slams the brakes and everyone piles out like this fucker just turned into a coked up Godzilla. As if killing this guy isn't bad enough, dude cuts the victim's head off and holds it over his head like it's the Olympic gold medal in brutality, then decides to celebrate by eating McLean's various severed body parts.
Yeah, you heard me. He goes Michael Myers on the victim's chest, cuts his head off, starts choppin' other bits and pieces off and downs 'em like they're something he picked up at McDonalds.
Cops finally showed up and brought the guy down and hauled him off to what I hope was a private cell with an open vending machine, and the world is left with yet another astounding "What the fuck?" So, basically, we can't fly because of terrorists, we can't ride busses because of...what, diabetics?...we can't hitch, am I missing anything here? What's next, the BMX Sniper? The Kick-n-Go Strangler? Are we just supposed to chill in our own patches and pray to God nobody decides to paint a taxi's backseat with our brains? It's a fucked up world we live in, folks, and apparently it ain't gettin' any better.
Especially if you're in Coach.
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