Bus Report #310
This afternoon on the 22 Fillmore:
I sat in the back of the bus, next to a woman reading a trilogy of Federico Garcia Lorca plays.
Across from us, a man read a Gabriel Garcia Marquez book, in Spanish.
Lest we think the back of the 22 was highbrow, the man standing next to me was wearing a crisp, clean new T-shirt that said: 'Save Water, F*ck In The Shower'.
It was hard not to laugh.
I ended the afternoon on a 33 Stanyan. The Next Bus said it would only be 10 minutes until the bus came. It was actually 25 minutes. I got to talking with a middle-aged woman with a lovely Indian/British lilt to her voice. We watched a little boy with his mom (or his aunt? not sure). They were cute, the mom arguing that the boy's birthday was the next day, while the boy tried to convince her it was the following week.
The 33 was crowded.
The middle-aged woman got a seat in the front. The mom and little boy worked their way towards the back.
At Haight and Stanyan a very combative homeless man (typical Haight Street homeless type: tattooed, pierced, street rat high on something) got on through the back of the bus and immediately started arguing with a woman sitting across from him.
Everyone stared at them.
I thought about telling the driver, but the man hadn't said anything really bad to her yet.
There was a woman sitting across from me that quite obviously used to be a man. She looked good, if a little suburban-mom-at-a-swap-meet. She had on a pink San Francisco fleece, the kind tourists get at Fisherman's Wharf. Her white sneakers had pink stripes on them.
She smiled at me through her thick, pink plastic glasses.
"I thought you were my friend Rene," She said, smiling. "That's why I was staring at you."
"Sorry," I told her. "Not Rene."
The combative homeless guy got out at Geary. He started pacing back and forth in the bus stop, his backpacks abandoned near the curb.
The woman shook her head. "Someone's having a bad day," she said.
I nodded. "Our friend, you mean?"
"Yeah. I hope his day gets better," she said.
"Well, it makes us look like we're doing great," I said.
I sat in the back of the bus, next to a woman reading a trilogy of Federico Garcia Lorca plays.
Across from us, a man read a Gabriel Garcia Marquez book, in Spanish.
Lest we think the back of the 22 was highbrow, the man standing next to me was wearing a crisp, clean new T-shirt that said: 'Save Water, F*ck In The Shower'.
It was hard not to laugh.
I ended the afternoon on a 33 Stanyan. The Next Bus said it would only be 10 minutes until the bus came. It was actually 25 minutes. I got to talking with a middle-aged woman with a lovely Indian/British lilt to her voice. We watched a little boy with his mom (or his aunt? not sure). They were cute, the mom arguing that the boy's birthday was the next day, while the boy tried to convince her it was the following week.
The 33 was crowded.
The middle-aged woman got a seat in the front. The mom and little boy worked their way towards the back.
At Haight and Stanyan a very combative homeless man (typical Haight Street homeless type: tattooed, pierced, street rat high on something) got on through the back of the bus and immediately started arguing with a woman sitting across from him.
Everyone stared at them.
I thought about telling the driver, but the man hadn't said anything really bad to her yet.
There was a woman sitting across from me that quite obviously used to be a man. She looked good, if a little suburban-mom-at-a-swap-meet. She had on a pink San Francisco fleece, the kind tourists get at Fisherman's Wharf. Her white sneakers had pink stripes on them.
She smiled at me through her thick, pink plastic glasses.
"I thought you were my friend Rene," She said, smiling. "That's why I was staring at you."
"Sorry," I told her. "Not Rene."
The combative homeless guy got out at Geary. He started pacing back and forth in the bus stop, his backpacks abandoned near the curb.
The woman shook her head. "Someone's having a bad day," she said.
I nodded. "Our friend, you mean?"
"Yeah. I hope his day gets better," she said.
"Well, it makes us look like we're doing great," I said.
posted by Rachel at 8:46 PM
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