Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Bus Report #589

Tonight's commute home:

Across the aisle from me sat a man and his little daughter. The girl was around 3 years old, very cute with her hair all braided and barretted. She started grabbing at a bag of cheese puffs that her dad was trying to open for her.
"Hold on, G," the dad said, "man, dude, don't you be grabbing on those cheese puffs. Now you've spilled them, G. That's not right." And then he said, "When I was your age if we got cheese puffs we wouldn't have been all spilling them on the bus. Damn, that's our tax dollars cleaning that up."

A block away from Potrero an older man with torn jeans and a cane that didn't seem to do much for him shuffled to the back door and waited for the bus to stop.
"Thank you," he called up to the driver. "Thank you."
The driver was confused. "What are you thanking me for, sir?" he asked.
"For getting me where I need to go," the man said.
"Oh, all right, you're welcome," said the driver. "Just hang on until we get to the stop."


Anonymous Michael said...

I really like your writing. Short and sweet and full of tenderness and compassion. This post is particularly poignant.

1:31 AM  
Blogger Rachel said...

Thanks, Michael.
I appreciate it!

1:32 PM  

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