Bus Report #421
Hot weather Muni fashion... an oxymoron?
It's been blazing hot (by San Francisco standards) since Sunday. In this kind of weather, San Franciscans have a tendency to take it all off, to wear flip-flops and tube tops and shorts and other clothes that expose our untouched-by-the-sun skin. It's funny, gross and sad all at the same time.
Sunday afternoon the 38 Geary outbound was full of picnickers headed towards Ocean Beach. Inbound, people looked tired and sunburned, and carried the picked-over remains of their picnics in crumpled paper bags.
Yesterday I was still trying to ignore the heat in my jacket-over-T-shirt. My fellow passengers had embraced the hot weather, making for a stinky and tiring bus ride. The 22 was full of kids just off of school: teenagers wearing last year's ill-fitting tank tops and shorts that were too tight. Women in suits exchanged sneakers for open-toed sandals, revealing new pedicures or old, chipped polish.
Several men had their button-down shirts open, or had their shirts off entirely, tied around their waists, or, in one occasion, around their head.
There were people outside all along Fillmore, most of them sitting on front stoops or on the hoods of parked cars. There was a crowd outside the Fillmore Grind, unusual.
I transferred to a 38 and sat in the back. The windows were all open but we were still stewing back there.
A girl dressed all in pastels (down to her sneakers, which were mint green and Pepto Bismol pink) yelled into her cell phone at her friend.
At Divisadero, two Middle School boys got in and stood in the stepwell, blocking everyone's way. For once, the other passengers made the kids move when they had to get out, instead of the usual trying to get around them without saying anything, which drives me crazy.
This morning, I didn't recognize a fellow rider: she usually has several layers on including a puffy jacket with a faux-fur collar, and a plaid hat with buttons on it. Today she was in a tank top and shorts. It was strange.
It's been blazing hot (by San Francisco standards) since Sunday. In this kind of weather, San Franciscans have a tendency to take it all off, to wear flip-flops and tube tops and shorts and other clothes that expose our untouched-by-the-sun skin. It's funny, gross and sad all at the same time.
Sunday afternoon the 38 Geary outbound was full of picnickers headed towards Ocean Beach. Inbound, people looked tired and sunburned, and carried the picked-over remains of their picnics in crumpled paper bags.
Yesterday I was still trying to ignore the heat in my jacket-over-T-shirt. My fellow passengers had embraced the hot weather, making for a stinky and tiring bus ride. The 22 was full of kids just off of school: teenagers wearing last year's ill-fitting tank tops and shorts that were too tight. Women in suits exchanged sneakers for open-toed sandals, revealing new pedicures or old, chipped polish.
Several men had their button-down shirts open, or had their shirts off entirely, tied around their waists, or, in one occasion, around their head.
There were people outside all along Fillmore, most of them sitting on front stoops or on the hoods of parked cars. There was a crowd outside the Fillmore Grind, unusual.
I transferred to a 38 and sat in the back. The windows were all open but we were still stewing back there.
A girl dressed all in pastels (down to her sneakers, which were mint green and Pepto Bismol pink) yelled into her cell phone at her friend.
At Divisadero, two Middle School boys got in and stood in the stepwell, blocking everyone's way. For once, the other passengers made the kids move when they had to get out, instead of the usual trying to get around them without saying anything, which drives me crazy.
This morning, I didn't recognize a fellow rider: she usually has several layers on including a puffy jacket with a faux-fur collar, and a plaid hat with buttons on it. Today she was in a tank top and shorts. It was strange.
posted by Rachel at 9:17 AM
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