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Boarding the bus (PG)


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One day, a large group of people were waiting for the bus at a local Greyhound station. At the front of the line was a very attractive woman dressed in a black business vest, white blouse, leather miniskirt, and high heels.

As the bus pulled up and opened the door, she went to board it, but found that her skirt was too tight for her to raise her leg to the required height. Looking around and thinking quickly, she reaches behind her and unzips the zipper on the back of her skirt a little and then tries again. Again, she finds that she cannot maneuver the step, so once more she reaches behind her and unzips her skirt a little more.

With a smile, she looks at the bus driver and tries to board again. With disappointment, she finds that she still can't step that high and so with exasperation and a sigh she unzips her skirt the rest of the way down. To her amazement, her leg still will not reach the bottom step.

Finally, a very large Texan behind her gently grabs her by the waist, lifts her up, and places her on the bus. The woman turns to the Texan furious and says, "Who do you think you are to touch my body in that way? I don't even know you!"

Nonplused, the Texan looks at her and replies, "Well, ma'am, after you unzipped my fly I thought we were pretty good friends."




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Mundane Journeys through an Amazing World begins with Interstate 80. Not the most engaging topic, I know, but when you think about it, I-80 runs all the way across the North American continent linking San Francisco and New York. It's not just a ribbon of asphalt, it's a portal to far away, almost magical places.

My visits to major cities like Tokyo, London and Washington DC have been business affairs. I haven't rode a lot of roller coasters or ridden in open air buses, but I have visited with senators, bought yams from the back of a truck and barely escaped complete embarrassment when I was introduced to Matt Wiener in Vegas.

As I wrote the book I realized that over the years exotic, distant places have become more like the mundane places I've called home. But, as it turns out, there really aren't any mundane places, only mundane ways of looking at things.

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