On the way home from Szimpla, we caught the wrong bus (surprise); an English speaking Hungarian woman pointed this out to us after checking our map, and we all laughed quite heartily together.
The bus had just stopped at this point and the doors started beeping a warning that we’d be jetting off in a few seconds, but we thought we could make it out anyway. Liz Yeager jumped down three steps and out the door; but all we saw was a flash of blond hair as the green doors slammed shut once again. We looked out the back window in horror, trying to push the red STOP button as the bus pulled away.
We careened down several blocks in the bus, not knowing quite what to do…mostly we burst into hysterical laughter with the Hungarian woman who was holding her stomach, rocking back and forth, tears eeking out of her eyes. The man across from me smirked amusedly, as did many others on the bus. (We knew they were thinking “crazy Americans.”) Jordan, Jenna, and I sprinted back for Liz at the next stop…and thankfully found her. We waited an hour for the next bus with a woman and her three children from Canada and a man from Pakistan. We took mental and social refuge in our communal foreigner-status.
We finally made it home at 2 a.m., giddy about our bus-capades though definitely grateful to have Liz with us.
1 comment:
HAHA. I miss you. Tell Liz I am glad she survived although I laughed pretty hard at that story. I can just picture it.
xoxo
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