I might head to Bells. I could just take a nap on a wooden bench and enjoy the train station. I made a small comment to a woman tweeting on one of those benches, "Isn't this such a beautiful train station?" She was so shocked. Not that I was talking to her did she express shock. She didn't agree. It's true Kalamazoo's train station isn't as perfect as the Los Angeles train station. Her accent wasn't American, so I asked her to tell me about the beautiful train stations of Europe. She had started life in Georgia, and maybe she was very young when the Georgian Republic broke away from the Soviet Union. Her bus departed for South Bend and Indianapolis at 5:45 PM, so we had the briefest chat. I had a chance to learn her name, which was Maria. The Chicago bus next to Paw Paw and Benton Harbor, an Indian Trails bus, is leaving now.
On the Indian Trails Bus, I fell into conversation with a woman who was shushed by the elderly bus driver on the Greyhound leg. She was talking too loudly on her cellphone and the driver parked the bus on the side of US-31 to walk back and tell her personally to shush herself in a comic whisper. I was rather enjoying the eavesdropping. I assured her she was fine by me. She admitted that she hadn't been in trouble with a bus driver since the fourth grade.
When we boarded the Indian Trails, she said, "How unlucky you have to sit across the aisle from me!" That was where an electrical plug was open. But I didn't mind. She had her hair up, her dreadlocks gathered, and wore reflective Audrey Hepburn glasses. So we chatted. She was glad to learn that Founders was across the street, but she was jealous that I hadn't brought her along. She was always riding the Muskegon, Grand Rapids, Kalamazoo run, so the location of Founders would be good knowledge for a layover later. "I'll hit Bell's in Kazoo?" Instead of picking up my invite, she invited me to her bar. "Angels". Well, to be honest, this six foot tall woman with a great smile and the energy of a twenty-two year old had qualification for Angels. We had a nice talk after that and I learned she had moved to Anchorage Alaska right after graduating from a Muskegon High School, learning how to hunt Caribou successfully. She learned to catch fish from the sea from a Native American couple. She also had a gas guzzler truck she had fixed up for off-roading, hitting the trails north of River Road. When we turned back to our texting, I just chalked her up on that list of nice enough American girls next door who happen to show of their natural 34 Bs. We didn't introduce ourselves and we didn't share a cab out to Angel's, about a ten dollar fare from downtown Kalamazoo. It's not that kind of a day. I have one friend who worked at Angels who now has a boutique shop in Northern Michigan. Everyone grows out of the entertainment scene in time.