My Tribute to the Chinatown Buses and to all those who love them...

A mix of nausea and frivolity inspired this tribute to the genre of buses commonly referred to as “the Chinatown bus.”

Here’s to the Chinatown Bus!

Nothing compares to you O’ Chinatown Bus!
With names* like Zenith, Sunshine, Happy Moon Star, 6th Century, North-Southern,
You are the gotobus!

So highly coveted,
We scramble to elbow through confused mobs,
We play nice with frighteningly unhelpful staff,
We allow unauthorized “Baggage Handlers” (ie. random people hanging around) to rip us off,
Just to be in your presence.

“Furry” seats with vibrant colors set in a gray backdrop,
A thoughtful touch of plastic bags dangling from the seat arm for unwanted crap,
Speaking of crap, a delicate aroma creeping forward from the rear,
You delight the senses.

You offer the thrill, the adventure of the unknown:
Are you structurally sound? Will we be pulled over?
Will I suffer from hypothermia or hot flashes on this journey?
Does your driver have a valid license?
The unnerving uncertainly heightens your charm.

Lest we forget,
Your welcoming spirit to the fondue/melting pot that is America.
All ages, ethnicities, religions, configurations,
From rookie international travelers asking repeatedly if they are on the right bus,
To seasoned regulars asking repeatedly if they are on the right bus,
To those you have left during a 10-minute (which to you = 4.5 minutes) break at a rest area,
You are the great equalizer.

So to those that reject, ridicule and/or despise you and the experience, I say:
It’s less than 30 bucks so grab a furry seat!
The Bolt Bus may try, but will never reach your dirty but lofty heights!

*names were falsified to protect identity and for dramatic effect