"Bus 174 to Downtown Seattle" read the schedule kiosk. That sounded a lot like what I wanted. Lucky me, it was coming in a few short minutes! The 174 bus came, and I boarded. Off we went, down many unfamiliar roads. Most roads not in Hawaii are unfamiliar to me, so for all I know we could have been driving to Canada. My dad lives around 145th st. to the North. I began reading road signs due to lack of other, more entertaining signs to read. "S 204th" passed us. "Hmm. 204 South? Wow, I have a long way to go." Next came "S 211th." "I am going the wrong way. Maybe the bus turns around soon?" Checking the bus route map I had picked up earlier (in the manner typical of someone who has played "Zork") I realized that I was in for a loooong trip down to Federal way (which is like, South a thousandth street or something). I got off the bus at the next Burger King. Crossed the 5 lane street. Waited at bus stop with similiar numbers on it for 15 minutes. Caught 174 bus. Ended up in right place.

Lesson learned: at Sea-Tac airport, the metro buses all stop at the same stop, regardless of which direction they are going. The 174 going to Boonies way stops at the same place as the one going to Andrew's Dad's house via Downtown Seattle. I've had a history of being incompatible with buses. When I first got a job with Au's plumbing in Hawaii and I tried to take the bus to work (on Sand Island) (not really an island, haoles.) I ended up at Waikiki Zoo, which is not close to Sand Island. When I walked towards bus stops, the buses I wanted to take would scream past as I watched in mild horror. Buses would frequently nearly flatten me while I walked down the highway towards Kris' house.

There were some interesting people on the Bus, unsurprisingly. When I transferred buses in Downtown Seattle, a girl wearing a LOT of VERY BLACK eye makeup walked on in front of me. On the steps into the bus, she stopped and turned to wave. "I'll call you tomorrow!" she said, to an empty sidewalk. I took a seat on the nearly empty bus. She stood in the center of the aisle, peering at the different seats and recoiling slightly from each one just as she appeared to be preparing to sit down. It was as if she saw some sort of matter on the seat that she didn't want to sit in. This continued for around ten minutes, as she did this to nearly every (completely ordinary) seat on the bus.

Then she started giggling to herself and having conversations with the vertical poles that you hold on to when you're standing on the bus and you're not out of your mind. At one point she turned to grin frighteningly at me. Soon afterward, she walked up to the front of the bus and announced, "I want to get off the bus." The bus driver let her off the bus without argument. Afterward, two very drunk guys got on together, sat next to me, and started hurling racial epithets at each other. One black, one white, they apparently did not care which of them was which, as they were not very logical in their choice of epithet. Not startling. They got off a few stops later, mumbling to each other about how they should find some people from Chicago.

So that's why I like the bus.

I'm thinking maybe I will drive, bus, or train down to Portland tomorrow. I'm starting to not feel lucky.