Bus Report #376
Familiar Faces.
I took the 22 Fillmore home last week for the first time in a while. I was waiting to cross the street when I saw the man standing next to me looking at me. It was Rudy, the guy that saw me at the Julieta Venegas show a couple weeks ago who had asked if I rode the 22 Fillmore.
"Hey," I said, smiling at him. "Julieta show, right?"
"Right," he said.
"It was good, wasn't it?" I asked.
"Yeah," he replied. "Really good."
We crossed the street together and went our separate ways.
Yesterday afternoon I got on a plane from LA to SF to come home after a great weekend at the Professor Eric-JD house.
I started to make my way to the coach section when I caught sight of a familiar, disturbing beard in the first row of first class.
It was the guy with the creepy red beard who rides the 22 in the morning.
I smiled at him (even though his beard freaks me out), but he didn't register any recognition.
Probably for the best.
I didn't see him when we landed. Wondered if he took BART home.
While in LA, we availed ourselves of the Metro and the bus. The bus was incredibly easy for M. and I, we got on right in front of the Metro station, paid our $1.25 (I asked about a transfer, the driver must have thought I was nuts, or at the very least a tourist, which I was) and went to sit down. The bus wasn't crowded, mostly young women with babies, men on their way to work, and a few elderly people. The bus stopped and the driver called out, "Whoever wanted Silverlake Blvd., we're here."
M. and I could have gone a few more stops, but decided to get out, since the driver had been nice enough to let us know when we got to the stop.
Saturday we took the Metro downtown to go to the Museum of Neon Art (so cool, if you're in LA, you should check it out).
We rode to Pershing Square and then got out and walked the rest of the way. It was very convenient and as usual downtown LA was bustling and a real center of activity. So great. The museum is in an old bank building, with torn-up ceilings and a half-tiled, half-linoleum floor. We thought it was great, for a temporary space.
J. met us there, and I was so glad to see him. It's been way, way too long.
I took the 22 Fillmore home last week for the first time in a while. I was waiting to cross the street when I saw the man standing next to me looking at me. It was Rudy, the guy that saw me at the Julieta Venegas show a couple weeks ago who had asked if I rode the 22 Fillmore.
"Hey," I said, smiling at him. "Julieta show, right?"
"Right," he said.
"It was good, wasn't it?" I asked.
"Yeah," he replied. "Really good."
We crossed the street together and went our separate ways.
Yesterday afternoon I got on a plane from LA to SF to come home after a great weekend at the Professor Eric-JD house.
I started to make my way to the coach section when I caught sight of a familiar, disturbing beard in the first row of first class.
It was the guy with the creepy red beard who rides the 22 in the morning.
I smiled at him (even though his beard freaks me out), but he didn't register any recognition.
Probably for the best.
I didn't see him when we landed. Wondered if he took BART home.
While in LA, we availed ourselves of the Metro and the bus. The bus was incredibly easy for M. and I, we got on right in front of the Metro station, paid our $1.25 (I asked about a transfer, the driver must have thought I was nuts, or at the very least a tourist, which I was) and went to sit down. The bus wasn't crowded, mostly young women with babies, men on their way to work, and a few elderly people. The bus stopped and the driver called out, "Whoever wanted Silverlake Blvd., we're here."
M. and I could have gone a few more stops, but decided to get out, since the driver had been nice enough to let us know when we got to the stop.
Saturday we took the Metro downtown to go to the Museum of Neon Art (so cool, if you're in LA, you should check it out).
We rode to Pershing Square and then got out and walked the rest of the way. It was very convenient and as usual downtown LA was bustling and a real center of activity. So great. The museum is in an old bank building, with torn-up ceilings and a half-tiled, half-linoleum floor. We thought it was great, for a temporary space.
J. met us there, and I was so glad to see him. It's been way, way too long.
posted by Rachel at 4:14 PM
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