Bus Report #537

Yesterday morning the 22 was late.
I waited with the annoying construction workers, who for once were actually slightly friendly.
"The bus," one of them said. "It is coming."
I smiled at him. "Great," I said.
The bus stopped right in front of me and I climbed on. It wasn't our usual driver, Nelson, but another driver who I know tends to drive a later bus.
The only open seat was next to Michele, aka the makeup slatherer.
"Good morning," she said.
"Morning," I said.
"How was your weekend?" she asked, before telling me all about hers. "Mine was pretty great. I was up in Marin with a gentleman I've been dating."
"Sounds lovely," I said.
"Oh it was, it was," she said.
We made small talk the rest of the ride. Nothing major: she talked about how she wondered where Nelson was, how she had been waiting at the bus stop for fifteen minutes and wasn't that strange?
She went on to tell me she likes to get her coffee, then take some time before work to apply her makeup. I had to stifle a grin at that one. I guess she decided it was too much to keep doing it on the bus.
Another regular got on at Hayes. "Shirley! Good morning!" Michele said, loudly, reaching in front of me so she could pluck at Shirley's sleeve. "Feeling better, Shirley?" she asked.
Shirley nodded and sat down.
A few stops before our stop, Michele indicated that she wanted to get up. She likes to stand in the step well so she can be the first person out the door.
Who was I to stand (well, sit) in her way? I got up, she went to stand by the door, and that was that.