Bus Report #60

The bus was late this morning, so there was a lot of time spent staring into the sun on the corner of Fillmore and Geary with the regulars: Francisco, the Teen, her friend, Raccoon Eyes Girl, and several of the sweatshop ladies.
When the bus did finally come, it was the shaved head driver without the glasses. He herded us onto the bus without checking anyone's passes. The bus was so crowded that I had to sit all the way in the back, in a rear facing seat. Nothing to look at except a teenager staring sullenly out the window and the sleepy construction worker seated next to her.
The Haight smelled like burnt toast from Haight Street to Herman Street. At Church I moved up to a regular seat, right next to the Raccoon Eyes Girl. There was some person clutching the bar next to me, breathing noxiously down onto me. I tilted my face away from them. At my stop, a guy tried to run the light. Some of the high school kids and I sucked our teeth at him.