Bus Report #593

For the fourth day in a row, the woman sitting across from me on the 38 was highlighting and underlining passages in the book she was reading, some book about teenage life in the countryside. I get sad when I see people writing in books, I can't help it. I wanted to pass her the sticky notes I use to mark my school books, say, "use these instead, you won't be sorry."

At Fillmore I stood alone in the bus stop until a man walked up and stood right next to me, asked, "How long you been waiting?"
"A couple minutes," I said, and moved away from him.
He kept pacing in the stop, crouching down to try to see the bus coming over the hill. He walked into the middle of the street to look, too.
I had my headphones on and tried not to pay attention to him, but his twitchiness was making me feel twitchy, too.
A Muni driver who is usually on our bus crossed the street and said something to the twitchy man. They both walked off together towards the 38, which didn't make any sense if they were heading towards the Mission or Potrero Hill.
A couple minutes later my favorite 22 Fillmore driver pulled up, flashing his beautiful smile and saying, "Good morning, dear, it's been a while."
I smiled and patted his arm and sat down.