Hey, I'm leaving New York

Well, I did not see any celebrities in New York.

Apparently, my friends and I missed the "entire cast of Gossip Girl by seconds," one of the bartenders told us. And before I knew it, I was back on the Grey Hound bus.

The trip down to NY went by smoothly and quickly. Nobody was snoring, nobody was talking obnoxiously loud and there were absolutely no crying babies aboard. Yet somehow, the drive home felt like an all day event, and I strongly believe it was because of our bus driver Richard.

Call him Rich, that's what he told us his friends call him, over the loud speaker in the beginning of the ride. Everyone awkwardly laughed, but Rich continued to chime in. With every sight he found fascinating, he commented to his agitated passengers. With every car he felt was driving to slow, he felt the need to honk his horn while alerting us that we “were in good hands.” And don’t even get me started about our one rest stop.

This isn’t comedy hour at the Laugh Factory and this isn’t a double-decker tour bus. So why did Rich find the need to constantly be on the microphone? It took six hours to get home and I still have no explanation as to why this bus driver felt the need to put on a show.

Perhaps at a younger age, I might find this sort of thing entertaining but this bus ride was nothing of the sort. All I wanted was to sit in a comfy chair, pull up a good book and get some reading done in peace and quiet. Okay, I'm not 80, but still.

I don’t care what anyone says, I’ll risk my life to take the Fung Wah next time I head to NY, even if it did go zipping past us at 100mph.