Yesterday’s commute started out a little different than usual and I think that had a lot to do with the following: I left the house a bit early, to go find a newspaper. For some reason they have not been stocking the paper boxes around Potrero Hill for over a week. I might call and complain.
So, I wandered down Clement and found a yellow box fully stocked with fresh papers, the headline reading: RED SOX DO IT!
Which made me very happy. I walked on, down a still dark and damp street. None of the shops were open yet, except for my produce market. I said good morning to a very surprised employee, who has never seen me before 6 PM before.
At the bus stop I did not have to wait long, and the driver was the guy who always stops in front of me. I got a seat and switched on my walkman.
At Fillmore, I waited for the light to change with the girl I gave last month’s pass to. She told me that she’d seen a rat under the bus stop benches the day before. We both made faces. Gross.
There were a ton of people waiting, among them my bus friend Carmen.
We said hi and immediately started talking. She was glad to see me and I was glad to see her. She noticed the Red Sox buttons on my bag and said, "I am from Boston."
To which I replied: "What do you mean?"
Carmen: "The one with all the hair autographed my grandson’s baseball in Seattle this summer, he was so nice and friendly, so I like the Red Sox now."
Me: "That’s Johnny Damon! And he does seem very nice."
A few minutes later we were on the bus, sitting in the back row like two chatty schoolgirls. And, just like two chatty schoolgirls, we started gossiping (nicely) about the other commuters. We admired the mom with four very polite kids, talked about the loud teens and the men who hit on us when we are sitting alone.
Then she said: "I tell my husband, the 22 Fillmore is life. People get married, divorced, say F to you, are friendly sometimes and it is like a community. And you can hear all different languages and conversations and everyone in the city is on this bus. It is wonderful."
I had to agree with her. However much we complain about the 22 Fillmore bus, it is sometimes a fun and eye-opening ride.
I said: "and you make friends, too."
And she said: "yes."
The rest of the ride she told me about her niece, visiting from Mexico. It was lovely.