Bus Report #551

This morning it was so wet and foggy out that the bundle of Richmond Review papers in our doorway was already a pulpy mess. My own newspaper was sheathed in a plastic bag. I carried it between two fingers until I got to the bus stop, where I ditched the wet plastic bag and put the paper in my lunch sack.
The 38 was empty when it arrived. I sat a few seats away from a misguided soul with a New York Yankees tote bag.
I waited in the dark down on Fillmore and Geary. The bus came, and after I exchanged greetings with the driver, I headed back to where the coffee cup girl and Carmen were chatting together.
"Good morning, ladies," I said, slipping in to the window seat beside Carmen.
We talked about work, how un-tech savvy we are and about traveling. When we got to their stop I wished them both a lovely day.
At the coffee shop I had to wait for them to brew up some fresh decaf. Not a problem. While I waited I talked with the elderly man I joked around with last week, the sweet man with the slight stutter.
Later, walking the rest of the way to work, I saw my friends at the garage. They were silently drinking their coffee out in the work bay. The younger man was slouched over a table. I guess it was a little early for him.