Bus Report #70

It is officially summer here in San Francisco, at least temperature wise. I left the house without a jacket today, and the sun was really bright.
The 38L stopped at my stop, which was curious since the Limited is, well, a Limited bus and never stops at my stop. It continued to make all the stops, so I guess it was not a Limited after all.
Mr. Polite was confused by the mislabled bus, and he kept looking out the window at all the stops.
On the 22, it smelled horribly of the orange scented cleaner they use to wash down the busses. All the windows were shut too, despite the heat and the smell. The first chance I got, I yanked a few of them open. As we rattled down Fillmore, tons of regulars got on:
The kids from Eddy block.
The super tall woman.
The very boyish teenage girl who always looks sad.
The Cor-O-Van guys.
I saw my favorite sweatshop lady and we chatted for a minute.
J. got on at Guerrero and we talked a little too. Haven't seen her in months.
The bus emptied out at Potrero.
At my stop, I almost collided with a guy talking on his cell phone.