Bus Report #563
Rainy early evening commute down to Rickshaw Stop.
The woman sitting across from me on the 38 wore two plastic bags on her head. It looked stupid and made me feel very, very uneasy - knowing someone who suffocated themselves this way. I kept shooting her disgusted looks, but she didn't notice.
Next to me, a man was reading last week's Economist magazine. After a while his seat mate said, "I've got a whole bunch of those I've been meaning to read."
The man reading the magazine said, "Yeah, me, too. This is last week's."
I threw my hat into the ring, too. "I've got four issues on my coffee table, too." I said.
I switched to the 22 at Fillmore. It was much more crowded than it usually is at 6:30 AM.
The couple sitting in front of me was a bit odd. The man was dressed in average, non-descript clothes and he had a new buzz cut. But he couldn't hide his face tattoo, that covered most of his left cheek. Some sort of veiny blue design. His girlfriend sat in the window seat reading a thick paperback copy of The Hobbit.
At one point she gave him ten dollars and wanted him to give her two dollars back. He took his wallet out of his bag and began shuffling through it for money, but the wallet was full of scraps of paper, none of them legal tender. He gave up.
I don't know if it was the weather or a broken bottle somewhere on board but everyone on the bus smelled like vodka.
I stood up to get out at Hayes. A woman sitting by the door looked so familiar but I couldn't place her and she looked right through me.
In the front of the bus, a man wore a T-shirt that said: With a shirt like this, who needs pants?'
The woman sitting across from me on the 38 wore two plastic bags on her head. It looked stupid and made me feel very, very uneasy - knowing someone who suffocated themselves this way. I kept shooting her disgusted looks, but she didn't notice.
Next to me, a man was reading last week's Economist magazine. After a while his seat mate said, "I've got a whole bunch of those I've been meaning to read."
The man reading the magazine said, "Yeah, me, too. This is last week's."
I threw my hat into the ring, too. "I've got four issues on my coffee table, too." I said.
I switched to the 22 at Fillmore. It was much more crowded than it usually is at 6:30 AM.
The couple sitting in front of me was a bit odd. The man was dressed in average, non-descript clothes and he had a new buzz cut. But he couldn't hide his face tattoo, that covered most of his left cheek. Some sort of veiny blue design. His girlfriend sat in the window seat reading a thick paperback copy of The Hobbit.
At one point she gave him ten dollars and wanted him to give her two dollars back. He took his wallet out of his bag and began shuffling through it for money, but the wallet was full of scraps of paper, none of them legal tender. He gave up.
I don't know if it was the weather or a broken bottle somewhere on board but everyone on the bus smelled like vodka.
I stood up to get out at Hayes. A woman sitting by the door looked so familiar but I couldn't place her and she looked right through me.
In the front of the bus, a man wore a T-shirt that said: With a shirt like this, who needs pants?'
posted by Rachel at 10:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home