Kids these days

You can tell right away the people you want to avoid. Not because they look scary, or even potentially dangerous. Some Hounders just have that look that at any moment something crazy is going to come flying out of their mouths. If you are making eye contact when it does—BAM—you are sucked in to some lunatic conversation. For example, on this, the first leg of my trip from Knoxville to Nashville (en route to Memphis), I've learned that the worse part about being a freight train conductor was the drug testing (not the procedure, of course, rather the need to stay clean in order to operate a freight train), but for $38/hour, the short, middle-aged man with few teeth and (I kid you not) a little blue-and-white striped conductor's hat was very forthcoming in informing me.

Casey Jones here, like the guy who wanted to hook up with the pregnant nude model with STDs (see last post) wanted to be clear on two points: He can afford to fly but chooses to ride the bus THIS time, and he's got a lot going on “on the outside” (as in beyond the Hound).

Drug use is a popular theme on the ride to Nashville tonight. Marijuana helps one guy operate saws better in the mill (what could possibly go wrong there?), one woman would have finished her associates degree had it not been for all the heroine “back in the day.” And even the reverend (replete with neck tat) had his darkest hour with cocaine and various other experiments before seeing the light.

Those people are easy to spot. But the ones I don't mind talking to are harder to find. Likely because I'm guarded waiting for them to say something crazy too. The guy in the row next to mine was nice. He was on his way to Middle Tennessee State University as a Music Recording major. He was from Bartlett and had family meeting him at the bus station to take him to Murphressboro. I learned all that from him, but not whether he ever use elicit drugs, nor what his salary was. Nor whether he had venereal diseases.

So, there's one nice fella, at least. Though, I hate to label him as “normal” in this situation. I fear that I'm coming off as arrogant or superior to the other Hounders. I am, after all, right there in front of the freight train conductor and behind the tatted-up reverend. Our lives have taken us to the exact same place in time, as different as the roads have been. So forgive me if I get carried away in my own shock from the stories I hear. I am simply not accustomed to such discourse—particularly from people who have known each other all but 30 minutes or so. Isn't there usually some small talk people engage in that does not include illegal activity, on the job or otherwise?

I digress. Now I'm in the Nashville depot seems pretty quiet tonight. And it appears we are boarding for Memphis. I can't wait to see those sweet girls again—all three of em!