While Outside

I was in Kenmore, waiting. The 57 bus was running about 20 minutes late. Yawn. So I zoned out and stared at a puddle of orange soda. I listened to the carbonation bubbles pop. Then, suddenly, I heard a moaning, hissing sound.

"Oh cool," I thought. "That must be the 57. Finally!"

But when I looked up I didn't see a bus. I saw a whale.

The whale (whalebus?) drove up to the curb and stopped.

I'd never seen a whale before, and I don't know much about whales, so I can't say what type of whale it was or whether or not this whale was normal sized or what. I mean, it was big. Like bus-sized. And it was blue. Dark blue. It also had eight wheels and they were plump like donuts. Black, diesel-scented smoke poured from the whale's blowhole.

While I inspected the whale, a people-sized grunion climbed out of its mouth. The grunion stretched out and yawned. It looked really, really sleepy.

The grunion sat on the curb a couple feet away from me and ate a large gingerbread cookie. The grunion wore a hat like a bus driver, so I thought, "Okay, cool – this grunion dude looks kind of official. Maybe he can tell me what's what."

So I walked up to the grunion and said, "Hi."

The grunion gave me a fishy look but didn't say anything. It had huge eyes like bowling balls. Its large fish face was expressionless and pretty creepy on the whole.

"Uh…" I said to the grunion, "…so what's up with this whale? Where's the 57 bus?"

The grunion turned its big fish face toward me. Cookie crumbs were all over its mouth. Its breath smelled like fishy gingerbread.

"Yes," gurgled the grunion, "the 57 bus is broken today. You'll have to ride the whale."

"Shit. Does the whale make the same stops?"

"Uh," said the grunion, "I think so. I guess. The route is a little different – we make a few extra stops – but the ride is pretty much the same, except the ride smells a little bit like fish and seawater, and the seats are kind of damp, and so on."

I sighed and said, "Okay – but, honestly, I'm not too into the smell of fish."

And the grunion said, "Yeah, well neither am I. Anyway, you better get on the whale; we're going to leave in a minute. I'm just gonna take a leak real quick."

So I shrugged and got on board the whale. It cost me $1.25.

A few minutes later, the whale began to move.

The whale didn't have any windows, so it was difficult to tell where we were at any given time. I think we took off down Commonwealth Ave., but I'm not sure.

Two stops later, a birthday cake boarded the whale.

Cake isn't really my thing, but of all the kinds of cake, birthday cake is my least favorite. Birthday cake is too sugary and sweet and colorful, you know? Gross.

Anyway, the birthday cake sat right next to me of course. The bench we shared was not big. I slowly inched away to get as much space between us as possible. While I was doing so, the birthday cake caught me looking at her. She smiled.

"Hello," she said. "Do you know which stop we're at? I can't tell. There aren't any windows in this whale."

"Sorry," I said. "I'm not sure. I haven't been paying attention. My stop isn't for a while."

"Oh," said the birthday cake. "Oh well."

"Where are you going?"

"The glacier."

"The glacier?" I said, puzzled. "Where's that? Brighton?"

"Uh, no, I don't think so. But I haven't been in town long, so I'm not sure."

I shrugged and yawned. "Well, whatever."

"How about you," said the birthday cake, "where are you going?"

"Me? I'm going to Watertown."

"Oh, yeah? What are you doing there?"

"I'm gonna visit some friends, get drunk, and maybe play some Nintendo. What about you? What are you doing in, errr, the glacier?"

Etc., etc., etc..

The birthday cake said she came to Boston for a couple of months to see the sights and do graduate work at one of the local schools. She was working towards a doctorate in biology or law or something gross like that.

Anyway, we were having this pretty standard "I'm stuck sitting next to you on a bus (or a whale in this case)" sort of conversation when suddenly the whale swerved, crashed, and fell over on its side.

Several people yelled things like "drat," while others spilled coffee on their pants, dresses, etc.. The experience was loud, shocking, and forceful, but all the passengers remained cheerful and optimistic throughout the ordeal.

I climbed from the whale's mouth and looked around. I figured maybe we were near where I was going, you know? Maybe I could walk. But we were nowhere near Watertown. Not even close. In fact, I had no idea where the hell we were.

We appeared to be on a glacier. I mean, everything was white and frozen and covered in snow. A couple of penguins were standing around, chilling out, doing penguin stuff. And a big, fat polar bear was sitting under a snowy tree.

So I'm taking all this in with a "What the fuck is going on – where the hell am I?" expression on my face. Meanwhile, the other passengers exited the whale.

The grunion bus driver, dazed yet expressionless, climbed out last. He sat beside the dented whale, rubbing its snout and saying encouraging things like, "It's okay buddy," and, "I know you didn't mean to."

The whale, meanwhile, blubbered disconsolately.

Once the situation, and the whale, had calmed down, the grunion gathered up the passengers and said, "Sorry, folks, that's the end of the road, it looks like the whale is broke!"

And all the passengers said, "Aaaaaaaw… what happened?"

And the grunion, scratching his chin thoughtfully, said, "I think we landed on the glacier awkwardly and crashed."

And all the passengers said, "Oh well. It happens. Is the whale gonna be all right?"

And the grunion said, "Oh yeah, no worries. He's a little bit banged up, but he'll pull through just fine."

The passengers were very relieved. In fact, everyone on the bus was pretty upbeat about the whole crashed whale scenario. Everyone but me. I was bummed out. I didn't want to be stuck on this loser glacier. What the fuck!

The other passengers dispersed, so I walked up to the grunion super-casual-like and I said, "So, dude, when will the next whale be coming by?"

"Not for a couple weeks," said the grunion.

My jaw dropped. "Dude!" I said, "A couple weeks?!"

"Yeah."

"That sucks!"

Then the grunion told me there's this train that runs between Boston and the glacier. It's called the glacier train. Duh.

"The glacier train is pretty tight," said the grunion. "It goes underwater. You see all sorts of fish and squid and stuff. The passengers get all the free ice cream sandwiches they can eat. The seats are plush and cozy. And the conductors are really, really friendly."

"Honestly," I said, "That sounds pretty cool, but I'm not really into ice cream sandwiches or any of that friendliness crap. I just want to get off this stupid glacier as soon as possible."

The grunion glared at me. I regretted speaking so bluntly.

"Well," said the grunion, "you're in luck then. The next glacier train leaves tomorrow afternoon."

Then the whale started moaning again, and the grunion went to pat its snout and settle it down.

So I was stuck on the glacier for the night.

I got lucky and scored a room at a pretty ghetto hotel – a big pyramid-shaped igloo. Not a cozy joint but a cheap place to crash. The bed sheets were damp and the room smelled fishy. Fortunately I was beat as hell and nodded off easy.

I woke at dawn and felt like a million bucks!

As I was leaving the hotel, a sea lion barked, "Good morning, sir!" and startled the shit out of me. Seriously. I nearly had a fucking heart attack. The sea lion apologized for startling me and offered to give me a complimentary haircut.

"Everyone who stays at the igloo hotel gets a free haircut," said the sea lion.

I smiled and said, "No thanks," as graciously as I could manage.

I walked to the train station and bought a ticket on the glacier train. It didn't board for a couple of hours, so I found a mossy glacier cave that some polar bears had converted into a diner. The bears didn't wear aprons, so their white fur was stained with ketchup, egg yolks, and grease. Classy!

Just as I was about to sit down, I spotted the birthday cake; the same one I sat next to on the whale. Strange, right? She was sitting at a booth, doodling on newspaper photos and eating a donut. I went over and said, "Hey, what's up?"

I startled the birthday cake. I'm not sure she recognized me.

I sat across from her and explained the situation regarding the glacier train and the igloo hotel and so on. I said I had to kill a few hours before boarding my train and asked what she was up to. She said she was killing some time before heading to work.

The birthday cake offered me a bite of her donut. I thought that was a nice thing to do, so I took a bite even though I'm not really into donuts or sugary stuff in general.

"The igloo hotel was cool," I said, "but sort of gross."

"Yeah," said the birthday cake, "that place is weird. My mother stayed there once when she came to visit. A sea lion gave her a haircut."

"Yeah!" I shouted. "He offered me one! Fuck that noise."

The cake shrugged. "Well, the place is crummy, but it could have been worse."

"Definitely," I said.

After that, we talked about spatulas. I told the birthday cake about my spatulas: I've got a small blue one, a big black one, and a special omelet one that my father gave me.

The birthday cake said she only had one spatula and it was "nothing special."

By that point, I had about four cups of coffee in me. It made me sweat and vibrate like a piece of machinery. And the conversation was teetering on discomfort and awkwardness. Fortunately the glacier train was boarding shortly, so I excused myself somewhat abruptly, said, "Take it easy, etc.," and split.

A half hour later I was on board the glacier train to Boston. It was an okay ride. The seats were comfy and the conductors were friendly. But I was distracted. The birthday cake was stuck in my head. I felt pretty glum, so I ate four ice cream sandwiches and zonked out.

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