We thought the looming demise of the storied, musty former Greyhound bus station in downtown Denver would prompt a series of grimaces and regrets for a thousand past lifestyle choices.
Colorado, you’ll be shocked to know instead how much heart-tugging wistfulness poured forth in response to the dubious words, “Greyhound station.”
For every hangover-plagued, eight-hour ride next to an overly chatty senior and an overflowing bathroom, we heard fond memories of futuristic coin-operated TVs and cheap trips home for Thanksgiving. Let’s let the people speak.
There were the Denver-as-Hollywood destination tweets:
And there were the “Greyhound is surprisingly good” tweets:
There were the “don’t knock Greyhound, it got us from Point A to Point B” tweets:
And many, many mixed-emotion tweets about the whole glorious and gritty Greyhound vibe:
There were some “over the river and through the woods, past the police lineup” tweets:
And some appropriately bizarre-luck tweets:
There are the “don’t insult my romantic dreams” fans:
And Romantic Rae followed up with a tweet-poem:
One guy sent us his amazing painting:
And finally, after Greyhound moved its station to another part of downtown and the crumbling icon became known more as a skeevy parking lot, more memories flowed:
Skeevy, yes. But like the entire Greyhound oeuvre, skeevy and affordable.
