“No gum popping. Gum popping. Gum popping.””Zero tolerance policy.” We turned to look at each other, my fellow passenger, a black lady with a British accent. She rolled her eyes and gestured with her right hand, saying in silence, “What’s up with this driver?” The passengers obeyed. The trip to NYC passed uneventfully. I didn’t need a pepper spray after all, vanquishing an acquaintance’s hypothesis that I was headed for catastrophe by taking a Greyhound bus to the Big Apple. She didn’t talk to me during most of the journey.…