Bus Report #242
As seen from MUNI:
A large, framed photograph propped up against the check cashing place at Geary and Fillmore. The photo was over-exposed or something: a dreamy-looking photo portrait of a large man who was bald, wore 70's style think glasses, and who was smiling. Someone had scratched out the midsection of the photo so that it looked as though something white had exploded out of the man's chest.
The frame was gold-colored but definitely not the genuine article.
I wished I had my camera with me.
This morning I got out of the bus and headed to the coffee shop for my daily fix and the newspaper.
Lined up on the stairs of the Potrero Center were five empty yogurt containers. They were surrounded by used paper napkins, plastic spoons and the foil lids from the containers.
They looked as though they had been eaten in a hurry.
A trash can was less than a foot away.
After I get my coffee I often wait on the corner to cross the street. The Catfish Face Guy waits there too, for his 9 San Bruno bus. He always cuts his eyes at me. I don't know why. Maybe he can read minds and doesn't like it when I call him the Catfish Face Guy.
Later, Emiliano sped by me on his skateboard.
A large, framed photograph propped up against the check cashing place at Geary and Fillmore. The photo was over-exposed or something: a dreamy-looking photo portrait of a large man who was bald, wore 70's style think glasses, and who was smiling. Someone had scratched out the midsection of the photo so that it looked as though something white had exploded out of the man's chest.
The frame was gold-colored but definitely not the genuine article.
I wished I had my camera with me.
This morning I got out of the bus and headed to the coffee shop for my daily fix and the newspaper.
Lined up on the stairs of the Potrero Center were five empty yogurt containers. They were surrounded by used paper napkins, plastic spoons and the foil lids from the containers.
They looked as though they had been eaten in a hurry.
A trash can was less than a foot away.
After I get my coffee I often wait on the corner to cross the street. The Catfish Face Guy waits there too, for his 9 San Bruno bus. He always cuts his eyes at me. I don't know why. Maybe he can read minds and doesn't like it when I call him the Catfish Face Guy.
Later, Emiliano sped by me on his skateboard.
posted by Rachel at 10:51 AM
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