Okay, to set the scene. Picture a young Adam, about 16 years old. This young Adam had been on a superactivity with his church group. Unfortunately this trip overlapped with his family reunion, so his father had the genius idea to buy a Greyhound bus ticket for him so he could meet up with his family. Now that you have such a vivid image in your mind’s eye, I can talk in the first person. Thank goodness.
Anyways, so there I was in Flagstaff at a Greyhound bus stop all by myself. I had been dropped off by my leader at the Greyhound bus station, and my grandparents were going to pick me up in Holbrook. You have to realize that I was not very well acquainted with public transportation. I think I went on a city bus once when I was, like, 9 in New York City with my family. At that point in my life, I had flown all by myself just once or twice. I was a complete stranger to the whole Greyhound thing and the travelling alone scene. It was an all-around recipe for disaster. When it was time to board, somehow, I got onto the right bus. That was a miracle in and of itself. I got on the bus, just put on a movie and watched it. About an hour and a half later, the bus pulled into a Circle K in Holbrook, AZ. Now here’s where things get interesting. You have to remember that I was a complete novice at this stuff. I had 0 idea how the heck the Greyhound bus system worked. You also have to notice how I was at a station in Flagstaff, and a Circle K in Holbrook. The bus driver made an announcement over the intercom, but he made it seem like we were at the Circle K just to grab refreshments and a bathroom break. I thought there was another station a little down the road, and I was going to get picked up there. So I went into the Circle K, got a drink, then got back onto the bus. I didn’t realize that the Circle K was my stop. My dad called me a few minutes later, once we had gotten back onto the interstate, asking where I was. I naively told him that “we just stopped at the Circle K but I’ll be there soon”. That’s when he realized that I’d messed up. He told me to go tell the bus driver to just drop me off. I did, very embarrassed, and he told me that he couldn’t stop the bus once it was going until we got to our next stop. Which was in Gallup, New Mexico. Which was another hour and a half away. I called my grandparents, and my dad had already explained the situation to them. They told me they would follow the bus and pick me up in the next state over.
Well, the bus kept going as I slowly panicked about my stupid mistake. The bus finally pulled into a gas station right off the interstate in Gallup. After a few minutes and coaching directions through the phone, my grandparents finally arrived to pick me up with their Saint Bernard in the back. After laughing about my misfortune, we took off to find some food to eat, because by this time, it was past dinner. My grandfather tried to use Siri to find food near us, but unfortunately, Gallup is kinda in the middle of nowhere. Eventually we just drove down Route 66 and found a restaurant on a Native American reservation. My dad had given me money beforehand for the superactivity, and I had a lot left over, so I was able to buy dinner for all of us as a thank you to my grandparents for driving 100 miles out of their way to get me. The menu was scant, so the only decent option seemed to be this “Mexican steak”. All three of us ordered it. I can’t remember what exactly made it so incredible, but it easily might have been the best steak I have ever eaten. It was soooooooo good. After eating and leaving a nice tip, we left and drove the two hours to our cabin.
So here’s the moral of the story: if you’re on a Greyhound and you’re headed to Holbrook, “accidentally” don’t get off at the right stop, head to Gallup, go to a random restaurant, and order the Mexican steak.
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