Bus Report #88

A usual morning commute.

1. Mr. Polite and I, allies against the 38 Geary, while 15 people waiting for the bus to Thunder Valley Casino milled around behind us.
2. I sit next to the guy-who-is-always-on-his-cell on the 38. I listen to Javier Alvarez's album Dos instead of the guy's conversation.
3. As has become a morning ritual, I race for the 22. The shaved-head-clark-kent-glasses driver waits for me. I say a hearty, "good morning!" and he says the same back to me.
4. The handsome Southeast Asian (or Middle Eastern?) Culinary Academy student sits near the window, Walkman on. He has a delicate silver nose ring that I never noticed before. He sees me looking at him and he smiles.
5. The young man who works at the Anchor Steam Brewery sits in front of me. He has music on, too.
6. The mom with the four little kids gets on at Hayes. The driver gives the little girl and the littlest boy their own transfers. The kids thank him in Spanish and, all smiles, pile in to their usual seats. The mom shifts the baby on her lap. The oldest boy sits across from them, making faces at his sister.
7. My favorite sweatshop lady gets on at Church. We smile and mouth 'hello' to each other.