Bus Report #452
Fall is in the air, my friends, and I am ready. The bus was warm tonight, but when I stepped out at Market to catch my 38, I felt it. That cool gust of air, that hint of cold weather to come. I can't wait.
My 10 Townsend bus was right on time, and there were a few more people than usual on it. The woman who looks almost exactly like my (male) friend DM was there. I always think it's DM, to the point that most afternoons I start walking up to her to say hi and hang out while we wait for the bus. But no. It's not DM, just a woman who looks almost exactly like him from the back. She weighs a little more, though.
At CalTrain, a guy asked the driver when the next bus was coming, so he could run to an ATM to get cash. The driver told him 10 minutes and shut the door. The man knocked on the door again and the driver let him get on. It sounded like the man promised to pay when they got downtown, but I couldn't figure out how he planned to do it.
A woman who rides in the afternoons sometimes got on at the next corner. She always sits right in the front of the bus so she can talk to the driver, but she talks so loudly I can hear her over my headphones. Today she wore head to toe red: Red jacket, red slacks, red Mary Jane shoes.
At Market, our 10 was sandwiched between a 38 and a 38L at our stop. I ran for the 38L and made it. Score.
Everyone sitting around me (six or seven people!) was either listening to/playing with an igadget.
People tripped over a huge backpack a man had wedged next to the door.
The bus was over-full by the time we got to Union Square. Most people on the sidewalk waited for the 38 behind us, but two guys crammed on to our bus and wouldn't budge off the stairs, no matter what the rest of us said to them. We sat there a few minutes until they figured out they were the problem.
Later, as the bus emptied a bit, one of the culprits came and stood right in front of me. At first glance, I thought he was about an 8 on a scale of 1-10, with 10 being very good looking and 1 being, well, not very good looking.
Then I saw his ring, a thick silver band with a sports apparel logo and name branded on it. Strike one. I took away some points because... well, I don't know, I just thought that was weird. Unless you love the brand so much you want to marry it.
Strike two was the animal paw he had tattooed over his left clavicle. it was too high to be over his heart and too low to be on his shoulder. It was just right for anyone even casually looking at him to notice. Again, nothing against animal paw prints, but the positioning of the tattoo, weird.
Muttering homeless man got on at Fillmore and muttered his way into an empty seat. A teenager got on with a note written in pen on her arm: Get permission slip signed for passport permission. Noted. Not that my remembering it would be at all helpful to her later.
I got out at 6th Ave., and promptly ran in to E., who was on her way to class.
My 10 Townsend bus was right on time, and there were a few more people than usual on it. The woman who looks almost exactly like my (male) friend DM was there. I always think it's DM, to the point that most afternoons I start walking up to her to say hi and hang out while we wait for the bus. But no. It's not DM, just a woman who looks almost exactly like him from the back. She weighs a little more, though.
At CalTrain, a guy asked the driver when the next bus was coming, so he could run to an ATM to get cash. The driver told him 10 minutes and shut the door. The man knocked on the door again and the driver let him get on. It sounded like the man promised to pay when they got downtown, but I couldn't figure out how he planned to do it.
A woman who rides in the afternoons sometimes got on at the next corner. She always sits right in the front of the bus so she can talk to the driver, but she talks so loudly I can hear her over my headphones. Today she wore head to toe red: Red jacket, red slacks, red Mary Jane shoes.
At Market, our 10 was sandwiched between a 38 and a 38L at our stop. I ran for the 38L and made it. Score.
Everyone sitting around me (six or seven people!) was either listening to/playing with an igadget.
People tripped over a huge backpack a man had wedged next to the door.
The bus was over-full by the time we got to Union Square. Most people on the sidewalk waited for the 38 behind us, but two guys crammed on to our bus and wouldn't budge off the stairs, no matter what the rest of us said to them. We sat there a few minutes until they figured out they were the problem.
Later, as the bus emptied a bit, one of the culprits came and stood right in front of me. At first glance, I thought he was about an 8 on a scale of 1-10, with 10 being very good looking and 1 being, well, not very good looking.
Then I saw his ring, a thick silver band with a sports apparel logo and name branded on it. Strike one. I took away some points because... well, I don't know, I just thought that was weird. Unless you love the brand so much you want to marry it.
Strike two was the animal paw he had tattooed over his left clavicle. it was too high to be over his heart and too low to be on his shoulder. It was just right for anyone even casually looking at him to notice. Again, nothing against animal paw prints, but the positioning of the tattoo, weird.
Muttering homeless man got on at Fillmore and muttered his way into an empty seat. A teenager got on with a note written in pen on her arm: Get permission slip signed for passport permission. Noted. Not that my remembering it would be at all helpful to her later.
I got out at 6th Ave., and promptly ran in to E., who was on her way to class.
posted by Rachel at 6:47 PM
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