Most New Yorkers don’t own cars. If they do, then they have 1) an exorbitant amount of cash, 2) discovered a secret parking spot that millions of other people overlooked, or 3) overcame fears of being sideswiped by crazy cab drivers. Most New Yorkers find other ways to get around, in, or out of the city. Walk, swipe a subway card, catch a cab, ride the Long Island Railroad or New Jersey Transit, recline on a Greyhound, or buy an inexpensive ticket for a most interesting mode of transportation… the Fung Wah.
The Fung Wah bus service provides transportation from NYC to other major cities at a cheap rate. A rate that newlyweds, students, and money strapped folks can afford. Naturally, we fit in the first and third categories.
The Fung Wah is not for the faint at heart, strict law abiding citizens, or those who have a sensitive gag reflex. Luckily, I do not posses any of the aforementioned traits. My first experience on a Fung Wah bus left me with everlasting memories and a surreal sense of reality.
My husband and I met his family for Thanksgiving in Baltimore since it’s central to everyone’s cities of residence. I met him after work at Penn Station where we caught the Fung Wah to Baltimore. The buses queue down the street. No station, building, or designated waiting area… just an open expanse of concrete sidewalk. Expectant riders form their own lines. I use the term “lines” loosely. They exist as jumbled, haphazard formations. No one knows in which line to wait and the Fung Wah workers aren’t much help since their first language is not General American English. Our ticket agent only knew two words, “Baltimore” and “D.C.”
We picked a spot and I waited with our two suitcases. My husband went in search of dinner – hot dogs from a nearby vendor. The bus does not stop for food, drink, restroom needs, or emergencies such as a fellow Fung Wah bus parked on the side of the interstate because it’s on fire. True story. It happened to a friend of mine.
My husband instructed me to stand firm in line and push my way to the front as soon as we could board the bus. “They”, the Fung Wah employees, always oversell tickets and people are inadvertently left behind until another bus arrives. We had to get on that bus. Our holiday vacation depended on our ability to squeeze onto that overstuffed bus. We fought tooth and nail. I used my suitcase as a bulldozer to ram the weak out of the way. My husband flattened two families and a homeless person who accidentally got tangled in the shuffle.
We found two seats together and settled in just as my husband noticed an odd, repulsive smell. Apparently, a passenger from the previous trip lost his cookies in the aisle two rows ahead. S/he indiscreetly hid the evidence by tossing a few napkins over the mess. A young man seated directly beside the “present” called a Fung Wah employee over to access the situation. The worker relied, “I fix it. One moment.” He returned seconds later and sprayed the spot down with… not disinfectant, not institutional vomit absorbent… Tag body spray! Deodorant body spray! My husband said it best. It did smell pretty good.
When the bus roared to life so did the television screens that dotted the bus ceiling. What movie did we enjoy on our drive? “American Gangster”, of course, which stars Denzel Washington. Yes, it is currently in theaters. That’s another benefit of using a bus company that originated from the section of town which profits from selling pirated and bootlegged products. The government also recently forced Fung Wah to purchase the same insurance standard of other average American bus services. Scary? Just a little.
Roughly four hours later the bus veered onto an exit ramp and dropped us off at a deserted truck stop in Baltimore. My husband and I stepped off the bus, retrieved our suitcases, and surveyed the area. Across a dimly lit four lane highway was a McDonald’s and several vacant looking hotels. As we lugged our suitcases over a once grassy hill, a young woman frantically asked me if I had seen a green suitcase. Hers was missing. She asked the Fung Wah bus driver. Although the complexity of the English language escaped him, the simplicity of his answer did not. “No.” He hopped on the bus, slammed the door, and the bus left its former occupants in a cloud of dust and smoke. Literally, dust and smoke. Bloomberg needs to mandate clean air vehicles in New York immediately.
Somehow, in the end, we felt as though we made money traveling to Baltimore on the Chinatown bus. For $17.50 we made it to Baltimore and watched a newly released movie. Will you see us on the Chinatown bus again? Most likely, unless they’ve run out of Tag body spray or Greyhound has lowered their prices.
The Fung Wah bus service provides transportation from NYC to other major cities at a cheap rate. A rate that newlyweds, students, and money strapped folks can afford. Naturally, we fit in the first and third categories.
The Fung Wah is not for the faint at heart, strict law abiding citizens, or those who have a sensitive gag reflex. Luckily, I do not posses any of the aforementioned traits. My first experience on a Fung Wah bus left me with everlasting memories and a surreal sense of reality.
My husband and I met his family for Thanksgiving in Baltimore since it’s central to everyone’s cities of residence. I met him after work at Penn Station where we caught the Fung Wah to Baltimore. The buses queue down the street. No station, building, or designated waiting area… just an open expanse of concrete sidewalk. Expectant riders form their own lines. I use the term “lines” loosely. They exist as jumbled, haphazard formations. No one knows in which line to wait and the Fung Wah workers aren’t much help since their first language is not General American English. Our ticket agent only knew two words, “Baltimore” and “D.C.”
We picked a spot and I waited with our two suitcases. My husband went in search of dinner – hot dogs from a nearby vendor. The bus does not stop for food, drink, restroom needs, or emergencies such as a fellow Fung Wah bus parked on the side of the interstate because it’s on fire. True story. It happened to a friend of mine.
My husband instructed me to stand firm in line and push my way to the front as soon as we could board the bus. “They”, the Fung Wah employees, always oversell tickets and people are inadvertently left behind until another bus arrives. We had to get on that bus. Our holiday vacation depended on our ability to squeeze onto that overstuffed bus. We fought tooth and nail. I used my suitcase as a bulldozer to ram the weak out of the way. My husband flattened two families and a homeless person who accidentally got tangled in the shuffle.
We found two seats together and settled in just as my husband noticed an odd, repulsive smell. Apparently, a passenger from the previous trip lost his cookies in the aisle two rows ahead. S/he indiscreetly hid the evidence by tossing a few napkins over the mess. A young man seated directly beside the “present” called a Fung Wah employee over to access the situation. The worker relied, “I fix it. One moment.” He returned seconds later and sprayed the spot down with… not disinfectant, not institutional vomit absorbent… Tag body spray! Deodorant body spray! My husband said it best. It did smell pretty good.
When the bus roared to life so did the television screens that dotted the bus ceiling. What movie did we enjoy on our drive? “American Gangster”, of course, which stars Denzel Washington. Yes, it is currently in theaters. That’s another benefit of using a bus company that originated from the section of town which profits from selling pirated and bootlegged products. The government also recently forced Fung Wah to purchase the same insurance standard of other average American bus services. Scary? Just a little.
Roughly four hours later the bus veered onto an exit ramp and dropped us off at a deserted truck stop in Baltimore. My husband and I stepped off the bus, retrieved our suitcases, and surveyed the area. Across a dimly lit four lane highway was a McDonald’s and several vacant looking hotels. As we lugged our suitcases over a once grassy hill, a young woman frantically asked me if I had seen a green suitcase. Hers was missing. She asked the Fung Wah bus driver. Although the complexity of the English language escaped him, the simplicity of his answer did not. “No.” He hopped on the bus, slammed the door, and the bus left its former occupants in a cloud of dust and smoke. Literally, dust and smoke. Bloomberg needs to mandate clean air vehicles in New York immediately.
Somehow, in the end, we felt as though we made money traveling to Baltimore on the Chinatown bus. For $17.50 we made it to Baltimore and watched a newly released movie. Will you see us on the Chinatown bus again? Most likely, unless they’ve run out of Tag body spray or Greyhound has lowered their prices.
2 comments:
So what your saying is...we could see a new movie and get to baltimore for cheaper than it would be to see a movie 2 blocks from your apt???
hmmmm-sounds like fun to me!!!
Ok I'm totally sold. I was hesitant about the Fung Wah bus but Tag Body Spray? Where do I sign up!
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