Bus Report #79

This morning the 38 was full of zombie-eyed commuters. Several seats in the back were covered in crumbs. I mouthed a 'hello' to the older woman who gets on at Divisadero.
At Geary, I ran for the 22. I should have known it would wait for me; the driver was the shaved-head-Clark-Kent-glasses driver. I got on and thanked him for waiting. He is so sweet.
Raccoon-Eye girl sat across from me, looking as much my doppelganger as ever. I can't stand it.
At Eddy we pulled up in front of the Fillmore Street Cafe. It's always hopping in the mornings, full of neighborhood people and commuters of all stripes. Even the soon to open Happy Donuts won't be as busy, I guarantee.
Our driver got out of the bus and high-fived a couple of regulars, then disappeared into the cafe for his morning coffee.
It took a few minutes but no one seemed to mind. It was a lazy sort of morning for all of us.
At Hayes, the people from the AA house piled onto the bus. They always look tired and reek of cigarettes. I suppose a nicotine addiction is better than an alcohol addiction for them.
When we got to my stop, a relaxing 20 minutes later, I said goodbye to my favorite sweatshop lady and waved to the driver. I scurried across 17th and got my paper.
The empty lot has signs saying construction starts Tuesday and runs through Christmas.
Interesting.