Bus Report #569 - Boston Edition
Back in Boston for my school residency, a week of taking the 66 bus down to Harvard Square via Allston.
My first day, and the bus was packed so tightly that all I could do was flash my sister's monthly pass at the driver and ask to get in through the back door.
I stood in the steps by the back door until the bus emptied out at Harvard and Commonwealth Ave.
A blonde girl with no jacket slid in to the seat beside me. She looked at me, asked, "are you a knitter?"
This was two days after my knitting conversation on muni, and it felt strange.
"I am," I said.
"Oh, I thought so," she said, gesturing at my scarf. "I am, too. I want a brown scarf, but can't find anything I like... I guess I should just make one."
I nodded. She kept talking, about her family in Modesto, about the cold weather, about where she needed to get out. She pushed the signal tape and got out at Craftsman Street.
My first day, and the bus was packed so tightly that all I could do was flash my sister's monthly pass at the driver and ask to get in through the back door.
I stood in the steps by the back door until the bus emptied out at Harvard and Commonwealth Ave.
A blonde girl with no jacket slid in to the seat beside me. She looked at me, asked, "are you a knitter?"
This was two days after my knitting conversation on muni, and it felt strange.
"I am," I said.
"Oh, I thought so," she said, gesturing at my scarf. "I am, too. I want a brown scarf, but can't find anything I like... I guess I should just make one."
I nodded. She kept talking, about her family in Modesto, about the cold weather, about where she needed to get out. She pushed the signal tape and got out at Craftsman Street.
posted by Rachel at 10:00 PM
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