In the Bus Bag
Writing My Wrongs: Life, Death, and Redemption in an American Prison, by Shaka Senghor
Tag Archives: 358
On our first 358 ride to visit Jeremy, Chicklet and I sat next to a woman who, despite getting off on the wrong foot by asking one of those questions, turned out to be alright. She was on a bus excursion–which had started in Ocean Shores at 10 AM and was going to end in Everett late in the evening (!)– to pick up her two-year old granddaughter. (I think she mentioned why she decided not to opt for Greyhound, but I can’t remember the reason.) By the time our paths crossed on the 358, she was on her …
For better: My brother Jeremy moved back to Seattle last week! (And who can blame him?) He’s remaining car-free for the present and so has chosen an apartment close to a frequently running bus route. I plan to visit him often, to make up for the year (plus) he was away.
For worse: The bus route he’s close to is the 358. Pray for me.
The 174, known to some as the 194’s ugly steproute, is the 358’s southern cousin.
Note that each of these cousin routes has, on average, far more trife than the 7 (for that matter, than the 7 and the 550 combined). In fact, I can’t think of another route that comes close to their level.