Dear Big Black and Canadian:
Your phone is in fact NOT surgicially attached to your ear. You do not need to talk on it for five hours straight. Shut that shit off before I ram your cellphone so far down your throat that your doctorcan use its camera for your next colonoscopy.
The girl across from you who keeps giving dirty looks
Dear Travelling Suit:
This may be difficult to believe, but your precious luggage doesn't get its own seat on a full bus. If you really want it to ride in comfort I'll be happy to stow you in cargo.
A light packer
I'm so glad you returned. After all, I hadn't seen you since yesterday and really missed you. I assume Big, Black and Canadian invited you. Good thing I have no Advil on me.
Dear Girl in Front of Me:
Thanks so much for getting on your cellphone as well. Now I have annoying phone conversations in stereo sound.
While we're all relieved that you are obviously concerned about your passengers's safety as evidenced by your refusal to go over -40 mph, we'd also all like to get back to Boston sometime before the next ice age. Please pick up the damn pace, especially since the highway is deserted. And no, the eighty-year-olds passing us do not count as "traffic."
A better driver than you.
Dear Cellphone Part Three:
Ah, I had forgotten: stereo sound is so Eighties. Thanks for correcting my oversight and giving me Cellphone Assholes's latest in full surround sound.