Bus Report #416

I was walking down Post from the library, turning onto Fillmore, when I heard someone calling, "Rachel! Rachel!"
I turned around and saw Ebony rushing out of the burger place on the corner, her arms out, smiling.
"Ebony! Oh my god!" I said, and met her in the middle of the sidewalk. We hugged. I hadn't seen her in months, since she retired from her job in my neighborhood.
We stood there, both talking fast to catch up on the past few months. She's doing great, looks amazing as always. "I'm turning 70," she told me.
I gaped. "I think you're lying," I said.
She threw her head back and laughed. "Your eyes always bug out of your head when I tell you how old I am," she said.
I couldn't disagree. We hugged again and she went back inside the burger place. I continued down the block, smiling as I went.
It's nice to know that some connections you make can last beyond a forty-minute 22 Fillmore commute.