Once again, I was hauling butt across town. It was a Sunday morning and traffic was light. The bus, loaded with supplies and tools, maneuvered easily through construction zones and up hills to the new parking spot in the West. After a few days of worrying about where to park, my in-laws (bless them) allowed me to pull the bus in front of their house and I got on it.
After meeting the neighbors and growing comfortable in the small neighborhood which was my bus's former residence, we were booted. The conversation went something like:
"Sorry man, but my landlord says the bus has to go."
I smirked, "Really?"
"Yeah, they came by for an inspection and freaked," Jesse looked down, giving news the way some report cards are handed over.
"Did you offer them money?"
"Yeah, I tried everything."
I laughed, "All right, then it goes."
"You're taking this well."
There's always something worse that can happen, so accept bad news and keep going. As a courier, I broke my wrist, dislocated all my fingers, had my head split open when a Mercedes cut me off, took a short ride underneath a taxi, and beat my knee to death on the icy streets of the North, I've pulled horrible pranks on people and caused trouble throughout my life, it can always be worse. Keep going.
I parked the bus and got to work. It was time to hustle. I ran a line of 2x2's down each side of the bus interior securing them with PL-Premium and counter-sunk self tapping screws. The screws I chose were designed for attaching drywall to steel studs and while lacking the shear-strength (and cost) of beefier varieties, were enough to hold down the wood until the adhesive dried. PL is strong, so is tar, and with the weight of a sub-floor and floor pressing down on these joists, they wouldn't go anywhere.
The work was easy and went fast, I next cut and laid out, the joists running a support down the middle of the bus stopping at the stairs. I had planned to separate the front and rear of the bus from the core and so stopped the raised floor just behind the driver's seat. My bus time was limited so I decided to limit my work to things that had to be done.
My parents came to visit the next weekend and after the obligatory political 'discussion' between my father and I, he was glad to give me a hand securing the joists. He's always good help, not hesitating to suit-up in a pair of coveralls and glue each piece of wood. I followed, counter-sinking and screwing them in place. Once again, the work went quick and I was able to start insulating the floor the next week.
After an adventure involving a windy Saturday morning, a pick-up truck, 11 4 x8 sheets of Styrofoam and 1 ratchet strap, the insulation was loaded into the back of the bus. It seemed that progress was finally being made.