The Shoulder Sleeper.

"My name is Bus Driver and I will be your bus driver for the duration of the trip from Chicago to Indianapolis."

My journey had begun. I spent three hundred dollars to make it to Indianapolis, and then Louisville, Nashville, and eventually to cities along the East Coast. Unable to focus on much at eight in the morning, I solely hoped that I could be able to keep the two seats in my row so I could lie down. Four hours of sleep was not enough for my 23-year-old body. I was ready to sleep.

When I saw the lady walking up, I knew. She was heading for the seat next to my spacious, plug-accessible captain's window chair. Without asking if anyone was sitting there, she plopped down right where I expected.

I texted my boyfriend as soon as she sat down.

"I needed to strategize better. And look meaner."

I figured that if I had just set my stuff differently and had not sat directly next to the window, I could have had a seat to myself without any bother. Annoyed at myself, I took a good look at her, cursing myself for being too nice.

Her flowered backpack sat on the ground as she proceeded to rest with her head back hoping just like I did that the bus would begin to move. She crossed her arms and began the journey without a word of hello. Coniferous trees sported her sweatshirt with little birdies traveling into the abyss of her beige sleeve. The small crow's peaks that flew towards her eyes made her look like she was about my mom’s age, maybe a little older. Curly brown locks covered her face as she began to do exactly what I had intended to do with my extra space, sleep.

The pungent and recognizable smell leaked from her body. Her immediate deep breathing surprised me because with her mouth open, it became clear as to what she did before getting onto the bus. She had lit up a cigarette.

Turning my face away from the smoke smell, I leaned against the window of the bus on my micro-soft pillow, with the 10am sun coming in as we left the Chicago Greyhound station. Getting comfy, I felt a tingling sensation near my shoulder. After sensing a quick movement, I opened my eyes to see what was the matter.

Evidence proved that the small space between my sleeping comrade and myself was being violated. My suspicion confirmed, her head crept towards my shoulder once again. This time, finding the boniest part of my body, the woman kept her head there longer, resting the full weight of her head on me. Annoyed, I couldn’t help but laugh at my luck. How likely would this happen! With eyes still closed, she subconsciously realized that her head shouldn’t have been where it was, and she jolted back to hover over her own seat. Except that didn’t last long.

The lady bounced her head away from my shoulder, waking up once again. Within seconds, her head fell again. Laughing to myself again, she finally rested the weight of her entire head on the boniest part of my body. It wasn’t long before she woke herself up and eyes still closed, she slipped back close to me. Her head seemed to be drawn like a magnet to my shoulder. During one of the times she shook her head back towards her, drawing away from me again, I looked around and sent another text.

"Dude, I just noticed that there's a completely open seat right behind me.”

Awww maaaaan.

With a 15-minute layover to pick up more people at Gary, Indiana, we continued on our journey. The bus now full, my dear smoking friend flopped down next to me once again. I looked to my left out the window where I saw broken glass strewn over an empty parking lot and a bent over fence that looked as if an elephant had run into it. There was sharp barbed wire strategically placed on top, bent every which way. To my right, her pursed lips and bobbing head started heading my direction.

I waited for what I knew for sure was coming.

Another hour continued with her head dancing towards and away from my shoulder, keeping me (as a light sleeper) awake. Our transfer occurred at Indianapolis where we had to get off of the bus. She left in silence. Waiting for my transfer, I sat in the shady Greyhound station with a half hour to wait to get on the bus to Nashville. She turns to me, communicating the first and only words she said to me the entire way.

“Do you have a cigarette?”

**Trip taken when I was 23 years old and written about after the September Greyhound trip I had taken for 3 weeks.**

#greyhound #traveling #shouldersleeper #bus #experiencing