We have all heard tales of the Chicago Greyhound’s sketchiness. But no amount of secondhand information can truly prepare a man to board the bus, take his seat, and stare into the mouth of madness. Such was the case for Illinois’s very own Gale Collins, who took the Greyhound from the Illinois Terminal to Chicago after his car broke down.
“Across the aisle from me was a Vietnam vet, or at least that’s what his hat said,” explained Collins, as his eyes darted around the room while picking incessantly at his forearms. “The vet split his time between showing me porn pictures of women he claimed to be his ‘wife,’ and screaming into his phone about how bad he needed his dick sucked.”
Collins squeezed his eyes shut, and took a drawn-out breath.
“The Vietnam Vet handed me what I assumed was a joint, which I accepted graciously. I had never seen anyone smoke weed out of foil before, but I was willing to do anything to take the edge off the nightmarish five-hour ride. The signs were all there. The black-hole eyes. The incessant chattering. The raging hard-on. But without thinking, I took a deep drag of the crystal meth.”
Collins has been binging on meth ever since, and seems to have developed a real problem. If there’s any lesson to be learned from this, that lesson is to stay as far away from the Chicago Greyhound as humanly possible.