Bus Report #414
No one entered my last contest, but I'd like to propose another one anyway in honor of my 415th post (any readers not in the Bay Area, 415 is our area code).
So here we go... I'd like to hear a great Muni tale of adventure, woe or redemption.
Winners will have their tale posted in bus report #415 and will win a $5 gift certificate to either Toy Boat Dessert Cafe or Green Apple Books (If they give $5 gift certs, I will check).
I will also accept stories from people who take other modes of public transit in other cities/countries/universes.
What are you waiting for? This is a deal of a lifetime. Or something.
You can post your story in the comments or email it to me (address is in the sidebar). Leave your name and email so I can get back to you.
And now back to our regularly scheduled Bus Report...
Three days in a row running for my 22, but it's been my favorite 22 driver, the very tall, handsome, polite driver who always stops right in front of me. I've never heard him speak but I have a feeling he is from somewhere else... He has a foreign air about him, I can't explain it except to say I could see him in a National Geographic article about nomads of the Sahara, or Middle Eastern diplomats, or something.
Anyway, today he smiled and opened the door for me, and I thanked him (as usual) and headed towards the back. I got my own seat, across from the catfish face man.
We kept going.
The loud construction guys got on, the dapper man in the fedora (who is bald underneath) got out.
The beautiful Ethiopian lady who gets on at Turk got on. She has a lovely scarf she always wraps around her head and her shoulders, and it looks pretty as well as cozy.
I expected the girl with the cute mutt dog to get on at Haight, but she wasn't there. Her dog is small enough that she can carry it in her arms, and then the dog always sits perfectly still on her lap. I don't like most dogs, but this one is pretty cute.
I got out at my usual stop and got coffee, breakfast and lunch (someone forgot to make lunch last night... shame on me.)
As I crossed the street, I saw a 22 roll by. It was the nice but slow driver (slow as in drives slow, not mentally slow). He waved and I waved back.
Said 'hey' to the guys at the garage and walked the rest of the way to work.