There is only one thing worse than waking up next to someone you don't want to be with. And that's waking up next to someone you don't want to be with, then realizing that you're on a bus for the next three hours.

Some people try not to sleep the night before a long bus trip, or just wake up real early so that they'll be able to sleep straight through the ride. Some people also try drying their pants out the window of a car. It doesn't work. The most sleep you will ever get on a bus trip is two hours, even if you've been awake for the last 12 days. And those two hours will never be consecutive. They will be punctuated by large potholes and elbows attached to people on their way to the bathroom.

Everyone knows that the best sleeping seat on a plane is the window seat. Even without one of those pillows-that-looks-like-a-neck-brace, you can get comfortable just leaning your head against the window. This does not work on a bus, and there are three reasons why not. In order of ascending importance they are:

1) The bus window shakes constantly, making your head feel like it's in a paint mixer.

2) The bus window is three inches further away than it should be because of the air-conditioning vents on the windowsill. If you try to lean your head on the vent, your ear will freeze and fall off.

3) Buses hate you.

One good thing about waking up next to a fat sweaty guy on a bus instead of in your bed is that you probably didn't hook up with him. Especially if you were sleeping lightly, because then he didn't have a chance to hook up with you. Hopefully. The cunning bastard.

I told you last week that the televisions in buses are no longer used for movies, so staring at one to pass the time is fairly useless. Which is why buses have those gigantic picture windows. That way, the world can be my movie, right? A big, boring, crappy, predictable movie. Like anything with Freddie Price Jr.

While there are all sorts of terrains in America, most of them repeat for hours in a row. And it is not interesting to stare out the window for long periods of time when 3:30 looks exactly the same as 3:00.

When I'm on a bus without anything to do, I feel a lot like I do when I can't sleep. Except I don't have the option of getting up and doing the dishes, writing a column, or checking my email. There are no dishes to be done, I can't read or write on a bus without getting that "uhhhhhh" feeling in my stomach, and I have no new e-mail. I know because I used my phone to check it ten minutes ago.

The "uhhhhhh" feeling is one of the worst side-effects of taking a bus trip. It doesn't happen to everyone, and I used to be uhhhhh-free. But now if I try to pass the time by doing a crossword puzzle or reading People Magazine, the hour that I have left is much more uncomfortable than a few extra hours of boredom. (Note to readers: I don't like to read People Magazine, but I've found it's commonly left on the seats of buses. Probably because no one else likes to read it either.)

Occasionally, my bus will stop and let me out for ten minutes in order to let me stretch my legs, get something to eat, and leave me at a rest stop in the middle of Connecticut. I think Greyhound and Roy Rogers are in cahoots, because every time one of my Greyhound buses has stopped, there's been a Roy Rogers nearby. Or it could be just that dogs like chicken. You know, those trees still look the same.

Sometimes, the ride gets briefly interesting when I pass through a town. "Hmm," I say. "Jim's Lumber Company. I didn't know there was a Jim's Lumber Company here." That's probably because I've never been here before, and never will be again, aside from passing through on a bus. But I'm so excited not to have to look at the same trees that I make a mental note of whose lumber company is where. Driving through Connecticut is like watching an old cartoon where they use the same background for the whole episode.

Finally, I begin to notice the mileage markers. Boston 42. Boston 39. Boston 34. Boston 42. Ack!

Thankfully, that last one was just a hallucination. I finally get there, and I'm thrilled. Well, I'm not even there yet - I have twenty more minutes to the bus station and another half hour on the train til I'm actually home. I am still thrilled just to see city limits.

Despite what people say, there's a lot of room in cities. There's elbowroom. There's headroom. There's legroom. And in this one, there's the kind of room that's most important to me after a long bus trip - bedroom.

And if anyone tells you otherwise, I know a fat sweaty guy looking for a friend.

When you board a bus for a long trip, it's every man, woman, and screaming, kicking, crying child for themselves.

Taking a bus is rarely the most convenient way to get where you're going. And it is almost never the fastest. But it is usually the cheapest, making it the travel method of choice for college students, the unemployed, and burgeoning young columnists. And because bus companies understand that people who take their buses are doing so out of necessity, buses cut corners more often than they turn them. I recently sat on a bus for four hours, staring at a blank TV screen. How expensive could it have been to rent a copy of Die Hard? If I knew bus companies couldn't afford movies, I'd have brought one.

But before you get on the bus, you have to get to the bus, and that is never easy. Sometimes, even the bus drivers can't find the bus on time, which is why it always leaves late. Unless you are late - then the bus leaves exactly on schedule.

Bus stations usually have buses with the same schedules leave out of the same gate. In other words, most Fridays, the 6:30 PM express bus to Boston will leave out of gate 84, making it much easier to find, and helping you avoid information desk-induced lateness. But the problem with "usually"� and "most"� is that you need to plan for "occassionally."� See, something gets screwed up "occasionally"� and all the buses are moved down a gate or two gates or four gates. So unless you check on your gate every single time, you will end up in Cleveland. Unless you were trying to go to Cleveland. Then you will have gotten on the 6:30 PM express bus to Boston.

People behind the information desk can be friendly, in the way that July can be cold. It has been known to happen, but don't plan your trip around it. Expect short, gruff answers, and never remind them that it is their job to give you information. They think it is their job to stand there and be short and gruff, and a sudden jolt of reality could alter the time and space continuum in ways you can not imagine. Like making all of the buses arrive on time. Scary, I know.

Once you find out what gate you're supposed to go to (and how to get there), one of two things will happen. Either you will be first in line and you will be annoyed that you must wait to board the bus until everyone else gets there, or you will be last in line and you will be annoyed that you weren't first. The problem with having to go to the information desk is that being annoyed is contagious, and you just caught a giant case of short and gruff.

After the driver tells you that the bus you just bought a ticket for has already been filled and you wait for a second bus, you are finally allowed to board. And then you must choose your fate.

First, you have the option to hold your luggage or stow it beneath the bus, crushed by everyone else's that is also somehow being crushed by yours. The process of bags simultaneously crushing each other is very complicated and scientific and involves spliced atoms, wind tunnels, and rhesus monkeys (but not Reeces Pieces, or they'd get crushed). If you don't stow your bag, you will never be able to find a place to put it in an overhead compartment that is too small to even fit your monkey. And if you do stow your bag, you will no longer have your magazine/CDs/Reeces Pieces to keep you company through your trip. One day, humans will grow smart enough to remember to remove their magazines from their bag before stowing it, but that day is too far into the future to discuss now.

Your next choice is where to sit. Since it took so long to stow your bag, Mr. and Mrs. Carryon have already boarded ahead of you, and now half the benches are empty and half already have one person sitting there. (Mr. and Mrs. Carryon are sitting separately, never traveling in the same set of seats. For their protection, of course). And you must decide how important getting a bench to yourself is. Is it worth risking letting someone else choose you? Wouldn't it be safer to just find the smallest, most polite person and take the seat next to them? Or is it worth risking having someone so large and obnoxious next to you that their elbow is jabbing your left side the whole trip, even though they're sitting to your right? Yes. So you put your jacket on the seat next to you in order to discourage the fat guy from sitting there. Really, you're just letting him sit on your jacket.

When the driver finally gets there (remember, you were early this time), the bus takes off towards your destination or Cleveland. And though you're finally on your way, the trip and the inanity isn't close to over. But this column is. Shhh"¦Die Hard is starting.

No one is smart all the time. I bet Einstein once spent three hours looking for his keys, only to find them still in his front door. He may have solved complex mathematical problems after he found his keys, but that doesn't make him any less like one of us for losing them in the first place.

Think of all the times you've bit down on your tongue. Or your fork. Or your fork and your tongue simultaneously. These are things you should be smart enough to avoid. Yet it will happen again tomorrow. And later today.

It is easy to blame alcohol for the stupidity that comes after you've been drinking. Like challenging your 6'5"-240-pound friend to a game of "punch-for-punch." But you can not blame alcohol for everyday mistakes. And if you do, the judge will not be too happy.

I think I am intelligent guy. I am usually well-spoken, fairly well-read, and for the most part well-adjusted. Yet my brain is often underdone. I consider myself technically savvy. Yet I have frequently sent e-mail to the wrong person, I have occasionally answered my home phone as if I'm at work, and I once tried repositioning the paper in my printer before checking if my power strip was still on. Sure, I make fun of the people who thought their CD-ROM was a cup holder. But they are not smart enough to realize that they are being stupid. I am cursed with being just bright enough to realize how dim I can get.

Earlier this week, on an extremely sunny day, I was carrying a few packages while waiting for a bus. When the bus arrived, I had a choice of removing my sunglasses or taking out my bus pass, since I only had one hand free. Because I wanted to get where I was going quicker, I opted for the bus pass, figuring I'd remove the sunglasses once I sat down. And I did - once I sat down on the wrong bus. Had I removed my sunglasses before I boarded, I'd have seen it was the number 64 bus. Which any Einstein can tell you is not the number 66. It cost me $10 in cab fare to get back to where I started. In addition to a little bit of dignity that I might never be able to find again. Maybe it's still in my front door.

I don't fret much about my lapses in thinking. Mainly because we are all occasional morons. Our parents, our professors, our priests, and our politicians have all done things they'd like to take back. Especially our priests and our politicians. But for the white collar and the white collared alike, thought out acts of indiscretion simply test the ability to get away with things. Temporary stupidity, however, can never be escaped by anyone. Forgive me father, for I have tried to answer my phone when my alarm was ringing.

We are a habitually toe-stubbing people. And it's not because we misjudge the placement of table legs. It's because we misjudge the placement of our own feet. Yes, they used to be smaller. But they've been this size for several years, and we should really get used to them. And what's worse is we laugh when toe-stubbing happens to those around us, forgetting that we did the same thing a few days earlier. And forgetting to look out for the table leg the next time we walk by.

We have left things in the oven an hour too long and put pots of water on the stove only to let them boil away completely. We have set our alarms for PM instead of AM and shown up an hour late the day after Daylight Savings. Or is it an hour early? We can never remember. We have ruined important receipts, phone numbers, and even money in the wash while simultaneously making our whites pink, or darks bleached and our largest sweaters the size of action figures. And though we are all guilty of these gaffes, we somehow consider people who cook, clean, and care for a living less educated than the rest of us. Perhaps they have taken fewer classes. But I've never been in a class that taught me how not to act sporadically stupid. That's something each of us needs to learn on our own. If there were such a class, perhaps I could find my keys.

Maybe they're behind this table leg...

I receive no fewer than 3,472 pieces of junk mail every day. Maybe a little fewer, but it's got to be close.

I can't use my e-mail's automatic junk filter because it deletes normal e-mails. I get sports news sent to me, and filters never let me read anything about Gaylord Perry or Paul Assenmacher.

So I manually delete all of my junk mail. It doesn't take very long, and it's not so difficult. But it's not much fun either, so I've been searching for better things to do with it. And though I won't always have enough time to respond to it, I decided to pick one message and reply. I hope the fine folks at Nameless 3-Year Proven Program, Incorporated appreciate my e-mail exactly as much as I appreciated theirs.

Stop Searching and Start Earning Immediately!

If someone on your list was a detective, I don't think this would work.

RIGHT NOW, Can You Honestly Say That You Are Earning a Strong Monthly Income?

Yes. Would I be honest if I say that I am earning a strong monthly income? No. You see, those are two different questions. And I'm supposed to trust you to be smart enough to guarantee my financial future.

How would it feel to have the extra cash to spend on things you want instead of saving for things you need?

Not so good. I'd like to spend my money on things I want IN ADDITION to spending it on things I need. I have creaky stairs that I need to fix. I also want to buy a big screen TV. If I carried my big screen TV up my creaky stairs, I would die. So the answer to your question is "it would feel bad."�

If You Are Serious About Earning Secure Income Right Now!

Questions end with question marks, not exclamation points. Like this one: what's with capitalizing the first letter of every word? This is not a headline. Your poor grammar is making me favor the "Whiten your teeth now!"� email still sitting in my inbox. But since I am in search of a Strong Monthly Income, I will look through this further.

Look No Further

I feel so torn.

3-Year Proven Program sweeping the Nation!

Yes, it's all the rage. The kids today, all they can talk about is this three-year proven program. I just bought my nephew a three-year proven program lunch box. What's the program again?

No Experience Required!

Deal - none offered.

Work Your Own Hours, Be Your Own Boss!

As my own boss, would I shoot myself a nasty glare whenever I wasn't looking, or make myself stay late because I caught myself shooting myself a nasty glare? Ow, my head hurts.

Complete Turn Key E-Commerce Consulting Business!

Perhaps some experience would come in handy after all. And maybe a map to what the hell you just said.

We provide the tools, the software and

Wait, I don't have to bring any tools or software to work? Man, this does beat my old job. But what is the "and"� for? I may be in search of a Strong Monthly Income, but I can't take this kind of suspense!

We are a Real Business Opportunity, with a Real Product, thru a Real Company with both Real Sales and Marketing Support.

I'm going to ignore your use of "thru,"� and just be thankful at how "Real"� you are. My last job was all a sham. There was a set that looked like an office and there were even actors pretending to be my colleagues and superiors. I stayed there for two weeks before I realized it was all an elaborate ruse just to make me except a paycheck for providing goods and or services. No way - not this guy!

A Proven Can't Miss System!

It'd have to be to find it's way on to lunch boxes! And you still haven't told me what that "and"� referred to. I really don't like suspense.

Earn Hundreds, even Thousands Part Time

I don't know about this Part Time stuff. Are any of your Real Positions at your Real Company open Full Time?

Earn Thousands, even Tens of Thousands Full Time

Ahh, that's more like it. Now, if I read that correctly, you're saying I could make more than a thousand dollars EACH year? Maybe even ten thousand dollars? Do you know how far above the poverty line that is? Heck, with that kind of cash, I could fix one of my stairs and still afford to eat a few times each week!

The Choice is Yours! Continue to do the same thing with the same results or use a Proven System!

My choice, huh? Why didn't you say so in the first place?

CLICK HERE FOR FREE INFO!

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