This story that I am about to tell you happened to me during my freshman year. I’ve told this story before and I usually find that people do not have the same reaction to the events that occurred as I do. Having lived through the experience, I can safely tell you that this was not anything to envy.
I was out at a party near Cleveland Circle with a bunch of my friends. It was one of those nights where feeling great turned sour in the blink of an eye. Fortunately, I wasn’t the only one who felt this way and I left with two of my friends to catch one of the last buses back to campus.
Little did I know what horrors were about to ensue.
The bus was packed as it usually is on Friday nights. I was lucky enough to find a seat despite getting on at the Bank of America stop. I was sitting next to one of my friends but we were separated from the other. Had I known what was to happen I would’ve made more of an effort to keep the group together. No man gets left behind.
The horrors started as we pulled away from BofA. The bus erupted into song as most of the students on the bus were chanting Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer” in unison as the bus continued on its journey.
As the ride went on, a few of the performers became aware that my friend and me had petrified looks on our faces. One of them had climbed up the pole near the back door of the bus and was swinging upside down while he sang the verses in our direction. I assume he was attempting to get us to join the chorus, but we wanted none of that.
There were a few songs that they Comm Ave Bus Choir sang, none of which were enjoyable to listen to. Don’t Stop Believing was the group’s final performance, keeping with the 80s tradition that no one on the bus was alive for save for the bus driver. Though to be fair to them, I doubt there was a song that they could have selected that would’ve pleased me. But it might have been nice to hear “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen.
Now, I think it is necessary to explain why the impromptu concert was as awful as I’ve described it to be. When one is struggling to differentiate reality from the alternative, it helps to be in a surrounding that resembles normalcy. This scene looked like something straight out of Moulin Rouge. Not very helpful… downright horrifying.
The bus ride came to a close and I don’t think the walk to Upper was ever so appealing. The adventures that end in a joyous celebration are usually the ones that are of epic proportions. I wouldn’t normally lump a flash mob sing along into that category, but we needed to celebrate that we made it through the struggle.
If there’s anything to be learned from this story, it’s that you should be careful what you wish for. I’ve heard many people say that they’d love to be part of a bus sing along. As a survivor of such an ordeal, I can assure you that you should not wish that upon yourself. You might lose your grip of reality. Unlike me, you may not live to tell the tale.