The Fine Art of Bus Riding

  Something about riding the bus, I can't explain it. You just see things from the road that a comfortable train ride can't deliver. The real world. Life. I don't know--are you buying this?
  Speaking of buying--only a loser would buy a bus ticket from Sacramento to Peoria instead of flying like a normal, sane person. But I only had $200 and love the smell of sweaty strangers and bus toilets. Plus I love seeing hundreds of miles of corn fields up close and personal.
  Every stop is an adventure, a feast for the eyes. Speaking of feasts--the smell of Joe's Diner and the delightful heartburn that follows is enough to make the humblest soul pray for their insurance to cover a gastric bypass surgery.
  So I took the bus to Peoria for the reading of Aunt Isabel's will. What did she leave me from her vast fortune? Just a bus ticket to anywhere I want to go.