There was a gaunt little man with cheek-length, greasy straight hair and glasses who mumbled to himself and giggled at his own commentary in a way that made everyone within three seats of him visibly tense. He scribbled god knows what in to a notebook and drew swastikas on his forearms.
Another gentleman, who would've passed as Kenny Loggins' doppelganger, was going out west to study rocks and minerals. His interest in the subject was so consuming that he could speak about it without end, and did, with anybody in ear shot.
Seated directly in front of me were a Mexican woman and her small child, who would peek at us from his seat, laugh, and then drop out of sight. It was kind of cute the first 30 or so times he did it. After the game of peek-a-boo broke in to the triple digits I wanted to poke him in the eyes, Three Stooges style.
One of the best parts of the ride was provided by an old drunk. He'd been warned several times by the driver that drinking was not allowed on the bus (I think it's a terrible policy, actually. You should not only be allowed to drink on a greyhound, but alcohol should be included with the price of fare). He wasn't very discreet about his drinking, but his demeanor would've betrayed him anyway. The last straw, the one that finally got him ejected from the bus, was a trip to the bathroom. The door hinge only allowed movement in one direction. So if you push the door to enter, a pulling motion was required to exit. The door's operation vexed the poor fool and he banged on the door and shouted for someone to let him out for the entire time it took us to arrive at the next stop, where he was escorted to a more suitable transport by a uniformed officer. It still makes me chuckle when I think about it.
By the time we arrived in California my ass cheeks were so traumatized and deprived of circulation that they were numb for a full two days. When they finally regained sensation is was not pleasant. Pins and needles, like you get when you take a hot shower after prolonged exposure to the cold.
I wouldn't do it again, but I don't regret the experience. It's nothing if not memorable. So if you haven't, by all means, go Greyhound and leave the driving to them. Just make sure you have enough booze for the trip.