I'm corresponding from the plush bucket seat of a luxury coach, somewhere between Hartford, Connecticut and Boston. Yes, friends, we can now coddle our laptops as we cross state lines at 55 mph, all for a paltry $10 thanks to the Bolt Bus!
I'm three hours into the trip, and we just took a break at a truck stop/Burger King for some stretching and snacks. I didn't buy anything, even after spacing out at an ad tacked above the urinal for "2 for $2 Cheez-Its or Meat Stix" Well, now I'm paying the price 'cause the whole bus smells like fries. Steve just called them "devil's fingers" to try and cheer me up but all I can do is sit here and miserably pine for BK while steeping in the smug self-satisfaction of having "will power."
