Bus Report #327
This morning I waited 20 minutes for the 38 Geary.
As the stop got crowded and the bus flagger showed up, I got more and more on edge.
Three limiteds sped by.
The bus flagger, Alex and a couple of sewing ladies walked up to the limited stop. I stayed at my stop with the man from the couple who only ever take the bus 1 stop.
Finally I had enough, and I called 311 to find out what the hell was going on.
"Well, from the GPS it looks like there's a bus coming in 1 minute," said the nice but not terribly helpful woman on the other end of the phone.
"Okay," I said. "But can you tell me if there's a problem on the 38? Because I've been waiting 20 minutes and usually I would have caught a bus 15 or 20 minutes ago."
"Sorry," she said. "I don't have any more information."
Like hell she didn’t.
The bus showed up and I got on.
It was torturously slow as it made its way down Geary.
We got to Fillmore and I took off running, to catch an approaching 22.
The two day laborers who always push everyone to get on the bus first, did.
Carmen was on the bus, the only consolation, so we chatted and caught up with each other.
I got to work on time, but without coffee.
If I'm in a bad mood today, I plan to blame MUNI.
As seen on the 22 Fillmore last night:
On the left side of the bus, a hard boiled egg ripped apart and scattered beneath several seats.
On the right side of the bus, two boxes of chicken bones from someone's delicious (yuck) meal from Popeye's.
I can't help but ask the question, which came first, the chicken, or the egg?
The egg smelled, um, less fresh, so I'll go with the egg.
As the stop got crowded and the bus flagger showed up, I got more and more on edge.
Three limiteds sped by.
The bus flagger, Alex and a couple of sewing ladies walked up to the limited stop. I stayed at my stop with the man from the couple who only ever take the bus 1 stop.
Finally I had enough, and I called 311 to find out what the hell was going on.
"Well, from the GPS it looks like there's a bus coming in 1 minute," said the nice but not terribly helpful woman on the other end of the phone.
"Okay," I said. "But can you tell me if there's a problem on the 38? Because I've been waiting 20 minutes and usually I would have caught a bus 15 or 20 minutes ago."
"Sorry," she said. "I don't have any more information."
Like hell she didn’t.
The bus showed up and I got on.
It was torturously slow as it made its way down Geary.
We got to Fillmore and I took off running, to catch an approaching 22.
The two day laborers who always push everyone to get on the bus first, did.
Carmen was on the bus, the only consolation, so we chatted and caught up with each other.
I got to work on time, but without coffee.
If I'm in a bad mood today, I plan to blame MUNI.
As seen on the 22 Fillmore last night:
On the left side of the bus, a hard boiled egg ripped apart and scattered beneath several seats.
On the right side of the bus, two boxes of chicken bones from someone's delicious (yuck) meal from Popeye's.
I can't help but ask the question, which came first, the chicken, or the egg?
The egg smelled, um, less fresh, so I'll go with the egg.
posted by Rachel at 8:21 AM
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