Bus Report #238
Monday afternoon I saw the 10 Townsend pulling in to the stop, so I ran down the hill and caught the bus right before it took off. I slid in to a seat and smiled at Ebony, who had just gotten on. She sat with me and we talked about her job, our weekends, and gossiped about some of the other regulars.
"That lady sitting by the driver, can you believe she is 69 years old?" Ebony asked me.
I stared at the well dressed, animated woman sitting in the first seat. No way did she look like she was 69.
"Wow," I said.
Last night was a similar story. The 22 Fillmore was pulling in to the stop as I was coming down the hill, so once again I ran to catch the bus. Ramon was waiting to get on the bus, too. We hugged, then he tried to let me get in first, but I didn't have my pass out yet so I urged him to go first.
We sat in the back of the bus in rear-facing seats, with a very bored, unhappy couple sitting across from us.
They showed some interest in our movies-work-travel-holidays conversation, smirking a tiny bit or squeezing each other's legs in response to what we were chatting about.
When he got out of the bus, a couple of Mormon missionaries got on. 'Elders' who looked to be younger than my baby sister. No one in the back of the bus would make eye contact with them or even look over at them. I had my sunglasses on so I peeked at them. The one sitting closest to me had thin, wispy baby-like hair. They both sat straight in their seats in their white button down shirts and their neatly pressed slacks, clutching their books in their hands. Oddly enough, they did not try to talk to any of us. Usually, they will try to talk with the people nearest to them. If they talk to me I usually ask them how they like San Francisco, and then I excuse myself and put on some music.
After they got out at Fulton, another couple got on. The man, who was very loud, made his way to the back of the bus. The woman sat behind me and I couldn't see her, but if I turned my head I could see her fake extensions and bleachy streaks. They were your typical bus-riding couple: slightly rude guy taking up too much space in the back of the bus, overly-perfumed woman sitting closer to the front of the bus.
Until they started shouting across the bus at each other.
The woman's voice was deep, deeper and lower than the man's voice.
I thought, wait a sec, who's the third person here?
But no, it was just the two of them.
Huh, I thought. Interesting.
I switched to the 2 Clement at Sutter Street. There was a girl waiting for the bus. She had a cardboard shoe box with her, and held a tiny newborn kitten in her palm. The cat was a calico. He cried when she tried to put him in the box, meowing in the most heartbreaking way. He was so cute and needy! She had a doll-size baby bottle with her to feed him with. He didn't cry at all once we were on the bus. The girl held the shoe box very carefully on her lap. She got out of the bus a couple stops later.
In other news from yesterday, I baked a plum cobbler and finished one sleeve of my knitting project.
"That lady sitting by the driver, can you believe she is 69 years old?" Ebony asked me.
I stared at the well dressed, animated woman sitting in the first seat. No way did she look like she was 69.
"Wow," I said.
Last night was a similar story. The 22 Fillmore was pulling in to the stop as I was coming down the hill, so once again I ran to catch the bus. Ramon was waiting to get on the bus, too. We hugged, then he tried to let me get in first, but I didn't have my pass out yet so I urged him to go first.
We sat in the back of the bus in rear-facing seats, with a very bored, unhappy couple sitting across from us.
They showed some interest in our movies-work-travel-holidays conversation, smirking a tiny bit or squeezing each other's legs in response to what we were chatting about.
When he got out of the bus, a couple of Mormon missionaries got on. 'Elders' who looked to be younger than my baby sister. No one in the back of the bus would make eye contact with them or even look over at them. I had my sunglasses on so I peeked at them. The one sitting closest to me had thin, wispy baby-like hair. They both sat straight in their seats in their white button down shirts and their neatly pressed slacks, clutching their books in their hands. Oddly enough, they did not try to talk to any of us. Usually, they will try to talk with the people nearest to them. If they talk to me I usually ask them how they like San Francisco, and then I excuse myself and put on some music.
After they got out at Fulton, another couple got on. The man, who was very loud, made his way to the back of the bus. The woman sat behind me and I couldn't see her, but if I turned my head I could see her fake extensions and bleachy streaks. They were your typical bus-riding couple: slightly rude guy taking up too much space in the back of the bus, overly-perfumed woman sitting closer to the front of the bus.
Until they started shouting across the bus at each other.
The woman's voice was deep, deeper and lower than the man's voice.
I thought, wait a sec, who's the third person here?
But no, it was just the two of them.
Huh, I thought. Interesting.
I switched to the 2 Clement at Sutter Street. There was a girl waiting for the bus. She had a cardboard shoe box with her, and held a tiny newborn kitten in her palm. The cat was a calico. He cried when she tried to put him in the box, meowing in the most heartbreaking way. He was so cute and needy! She had a doll-size baby bottle with her to feed him with. He didn't cry at all once we were on the bus. The girl held the shoe box very carefully on her lap. She got out of the bus a couple stops later.
In other news from yesterday, I baked a plum cobbler and finished one sleeve of my knitting project.
posted by Rachel at 1:04 PM
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