BOCCOLINI: Mega Tips

So here it is, two days before I hop on the Megabus to Philly, and I’m drowning in a sea of my own assignments. At this point, I don’t know which way is up. So forgive me, for this may be the “Seinfeld” of articles. For the past week I’ve been mentally and physically preparing myself for a six-hour bus ride, and I’m planning for the worst. You know, you’re in the window seat, squashed against some fat guy eating a tuna and onion sandwich, curled up with your knees hitting your chin as you try in vain to snag a little sleep.

Yet it irks me when people complain about holiday travel. Yeah, it’s crowded. Yeah, there’s a dude talking loudly on his cell phone while you try to read. And yeah, there’s always that one guy that takes like five bins to go through security and still sets the metal detector off with his cell phone. Oh well. I guess my attitude has always been to just get through it. Put your head down and power on in true Philly style. It’ll be over soon enough.

The actual process of getting to the bus doesn’t really bother me. Climb aboard, travelers, and make yourselves comfortable. Bring a book (or five) and crank up the headphones. Lucky for me, there’s only three stops between Boston and Philadelphia, so must of the ride will consist of actually moving and not watching confused passengers struggling with their luggage and patting their pockets for their tickets that they may or may not have left on the kitchen counter at home.

Another good thing is that the bus has a top section, which makes me feel cool if I sit up there. And it has tinted windows, which will shield me from prying eyes of curious children and already-fed-up parents on their way to Florida to visit the grandparents. At the very least, I’m hoping it reduces car sickness.

Like I said, it’s all about mental toughness. If you’re one of those kids who’s never seen the big city until now, here are some tips on making it home in one, if not loosely put together, piece:

Be polite. Chat it up with Mr. Tuna and Onion Sandwich (but probably not for too long).

Don’t blast your music. No one wants to hear how Jay-Z is gon’ “ball so hard” and watch you get deaf in the process.

Lastly, and most importantly, thank your driver/pilot/conductor/carriage driver (if that’s how you roll). He or she just had to listen to Jay-Z and T-Pain for six hours and now has to clean up the tuna fish your neighbor dropped under his seat. The least you can do is thank them for their service to people who probably don’t even realize they exist.

And so I come to the end of my travel tips. Remember: be polite, don’t blast your music, and a little cardio never hurt anyone (shout out to my “Zombieland” fans). Happy Thanksgiving.

Liz Boccolini is a freshman in the College of Communication and a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. She can be reached atlizboc@bu.edu.