Can't wait until the thrill of the next bus ride. The rides and the drivers can prove an accidentally entertaining bunch.
After rising at 4:30 a.m. Tuesday to fly here, catch a quick shuttle to my airport hotel and jumping on a media Super Bowl bus to the University of Phoenix Stadium media day, actually dozed off.
Woke to the bus driver apologizing to me and her other passenger. Seems we had gone 15 minutes the opposite direction of the stadium.
``I don't know what happened,'' she said. ``I punched in the stadium on the GPS and it took me here.''
Didn't have the heart to tell her that outside the window at the moment was the Arizona State stadium.
Then there was the guy last night taking a couple of us back to the hotel, noting that downtown was dead. He was closing in on 60, combs his hair at least once a week and tucks in his shirt about as often.
``The place you want go is the Crows Nest at the PGA tournament,'' he gushed. ``Nothing but hot, available women. The ratio is unbelievable. They line up a mile to get in there. Crows Nest or Birds Nest. You have to go.''
He was oblivious to our wedding rings, among other things.