Bus Report #417
So a guy got run over and dragged by a Muni bus the other day. He's okay, injured, but okay. And obviously no one should end up under a bus. But, isn't it, in some weird/bad/karmic way, kind of funny, since the reason he ended up under the bus was because he couldn't find his transfer and the driver told him to get out of the bus? I don't know. I think it's a little funny, but then again, I am kind of a crank sometimes.
I was on a 22 Fillmore headed home last night. The bus was on time, not too crowded, until we got to Mission. There was a huge school group waiting in the bus stop, about thirty kids and chaperones. The kids, mostly high school age, all had American flag bandannas tied to their backpacks or around their necks, their heads. My first guess was midwestern High School Spring Break trip. One of their chaperones talked into a cell phone, then motioned for the whole group to get on the bus. I am not exaggerating when I say there was a collective sigh from about half of the people on the bus, myself included. So the kids packed in, yelling to each other across the bus. They were French, not midwestern at all.
The rest of the ride was a lesson in patience. The kids yelled, people tried to get on and off the bus, most of the regular commuters looked tired and annoyed.
At Hayes a whole bunch of people got out and the students filled the empty seats, making the bus a bit easier to maneuver. I got a couple of the French girls sitting next to me (one on the other's lap.) A middle-aged man got up and moved to the door to get out at McAllister.
"You from France?" He asked the girls sitting next to me.
They nodded.
"You enjoying yourself so far?" he asked them, smiling.
They nodded again.
It was a nice moment.
Tonight I rode home sitting next to the older gentleman with the briefcase. I like it when he opens the briefcase and I get to see inside. Along with all his papers, he also had a thermos and two books to read, his keys and wallet and a small notebook.
Three college students gossiped to each other in Thai. It sounded really beautiful.
I transferred to the 3 Jackson, a perfect bus to ride on such a gorgeous afternoon. The light outside the window was clear clear and beautiful.
There was something in the windowsill. I leaned forward to see what it was. It was a dried out chicken bone. I wondered why someone would suck dry a chicken bone and then leave it on a windowsill.
I was on a 22 Fillmore headed home last night. The bus was on time, not too crowded, until we got to Mission. There was a huge school group waiting in the bus stop, about thirty kids and chaperones. The kids, mostly high school age, all had American flag bandannas tied to their backpacks or around their necks, their heads. My first guess was midwestern High School Spring Break trip. One of their chaperones talked into a cell phone, then motioned for the whole group to get on the bus. I am not exaggerating when I say there was a collective sigh from about half of the people on the bus, myself included. So the kids packed in, yelling to each other across the bus. They were French, not midwestern at all.
The rest of the ride was a lesson in patience. The kids yelled, people tried to get on and off the bus, most of the regular commuters looked tired and annoyed.
At Hayes a whole bunch of people got out and the students filled the empty seats, making the bus a bit easier to maneuver. I got a couple of the French girls sitting next to me (one on the other's lap.) A middle-aged man got up and moved to the door to get out at McAllister.
"You from France?" He asked the girls sitting next to me.
They nodded.
"You enjoying yourself so far?" he asked them, smiling.
They nodded again.
It was a nice moment.
Tonight I rode home sitting next to the older gentleman with the briefcase. I like it when he opens the briefcase and I get to see inside. Along with all his papers, he also had a thermos and two books to read, his keys and wallet and a small notebook.
Three college students gossiped to each other in Thai. It sounded really beautiful.
I transferred to the 3 Jackson, a perfect bus to ride on such a gorgeous afternoon. The light outside the window was clear clear and beautiful.
There was something in the windowsill. I leaned forward to see what it was. It was a dried out chicken bone. I wondered why someone would suck dry a chicken bone and then leave it on a windowsill.
posted by Rachel at 7:42 PM
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