Bus Report #341
I waited with the bus flagger, who waved frantically, as usual, at the 38L and then at the 38 regular. She was passed by courtesy of the Smiley driver, who pulled up right in front of me, laughed and let me on.
And then the 22:
Waited at the stop with the sewing lady and the man who likes to push in front of everyone.
The bus came and the driver, a new regular driver, pulled up right in front of me and opened the door.
The pushing guy tried to elbow in front of me, but I didn't let him.
As I got on, the driver winked at me.
I sat next to the woman who looks like a model.
Carmen's coworker sat behind us, her huge tote bag making it impossible for anyone else to sit there.
The neck tattoo woman got on at Eddy.
She sat down and immediately jumped up: there must have been something on the seat.
She spent the rest of the ride warning people not to sit there.
At Mission Street, a very old, very dirty man got on.
He looked like he had just stepped out of a coal mine, he was coated with grime.
He sat down next to the catfish face man.
Not a minute later, the worst rotten trash smell started spreading through the bus.
People moved around, I opened the window, but curiously no one else did.
I breathed through my mouth for the rest of my ride.