the pop box

Pibian: Ok, so we were down in Maryland last year for Preakness. Before leaving for New York, we decide to get really high, and then Balls (that’s the name of their friend) drops us off in the outskirts of Baltimore Chinatown.

(editor’s note – ew)

Anyway, we get out of the car all dazed and we see this fried chicken place. I'd eyed it before when we arrived but didn't go in.

Wamie: Chester Fried Chicken.

Pibian: So we go in there and there's a big woman and this little man behind the counter.

Wamie: You know she gives it to him back there.

Pibian: So Wamie and I decide pick out two big drumsticks and potato wedges and wait outside for the Chinatown bus.

But instead a dirty little minivan pulls up to the curb and the driver starts waving and honking. We get in and nobody says anything.

So it’s just me and Wamie and the driver in the van. We’re eating the chicken and stinking up the car and driving along on the highway and don’t really know what’s going on.

All of the sudden, he pulls off the highway, opens up the door and tells us to get out.

Wamie: In a Bob Evan’s parking lot.

Pibian: But then the big Chinatown Bus pulls up.

Wamie: We were really stoned.

Pibian: And dirty.

- POP by J

UPDATE: From New York Magazine,
Penny-Pinching Peril - Chinatown's Cheap Bus Travel: A Troubled History