Located just off the
main town road connecting to I-10, the bus station
is a steel and glass hood over a floor covered in
cigarette butts and discarded fast-food wrappers,
littered with uncomfortable benches, people selling
food from carts and, behind bullet-proof glass, hassled
looking people selling tickets. The Greyhound and
other long-haul coaches pull in and pull out again,
depositing people and taking them away again. As many
people's first introduction to the city, it doesn't
serve to inspire visitors with anything other than
the sense that the rest of the city must be much better
and worth the trip.
At night, the city's homeless congregate
and sleep on the floor or benches, drink cheap alcohol
and talk amongst themselves. It's dry, out of the
wind, and almost serves as neutral ground for them.
The only time that security seem to become interested
in them is if any trouble starts or their numbers
grow too big. They understand this, and for the most
part, keep their side of the bargain.
