Bus Report #548

This afternoon I went to catch the 22 in front of Thee Parkside. There was a pickup truck with a trailer parked in the bus stop, and a few workmen were loading Thee Parkside's photo booth onto the trailer.
I stood by the hood of the truck, and another woman stood by the back of the trailer.
When the bus pulled up, the driver was grinning and eeny-meeny-miney-moing us with his finger. He opened the door and said, "I wasn't sure which of you I'd pick, you both waiting for me!"
I laughed and said, "It doesn't matter to us, we're just glad you stopped."
He called out each stop as we approached, letting us know what connections we could make at each stop, reminding people to hold on tight every time he started and stopped.
I got out at Sutter to catch the 2 Clement. Just as I got to the corner to cross, the bus sped by. Another regular commuter stood next to me. I sighed, said, "Well, that's too bad."
We walked to the bus shelter and both peered up at the NextBus console to discover our fate. 16 minutes and 26 minutes.
"I guess we're waiting," said the other regular, an older, friendly woman who I've talked to in the bus stop before. She works somewhere near where I work, but I haven't figured out where. She has good carriage: even sitting on the uncomfortable metal bench she holds her back straight and her purse in her lap, hands clasped on the top.
We chatted about work, the cake party at her office that afternoon, and how important it is to like what you do.
Eventually our 2 Clement rode up, and we got on.
The driver was another talker: He was young, with a fedora and dark shades, and when I said, "thanks," he nodded and smiled, and said, "You having a good day?"
"I am, thanks," I said. "You?"
"Just fine, just fine," he said.
The bus was crowded, and I didn't want to push past the fragile-looking old man standing in front of me. A man sitting by the back door asked me if I wanted to sit but I shook my head and slid my eyes over to the old man. The man who offered me the seat nodded and asked the old man if he wanted to sit, but the old man just shook his head no.
He got out at the next stop.
The fedora-wearing driver called out all of the stops just as my 22 driver had done. The woman sitting across from me kept grinning and shaking her head. Finally I said, "this guy is great."
She laughed. "Oh, yeah. I had him last night, too. He's funny, calling out all the stops... Lauuuurelll Heights, Jayceecee, Argueyo." Her imitation was spot-on.
When it was time for me to get out, I waved to the driver. "Thanks," I called out. "See you next time."
"Hey, you have a great night," he said.