Bus Report #620
Last night I took the 10 Townsend downtown to meet L & H for dinner.
The bus was crowded. I sat in a window seat with several different seatmates - a new one every couple of stops.
At 4th and King the neon was burnt out on the sign for Taqueria, so that it just read, queria.
Our bus inched up 2nd Street. Near Harrison, a woman carried a light blue bowler hat as though it was a precious object, holding it in both hands in front of her body.
The bus got caught at the light at Bush Street. It's a short light and cars kept stopping in the intersection. The man sitting next to me sighed. A woman standing next to him said, "This is insane, isn't it?"
My seatmate said, "The cars just keep coming."
I said, "Bet you that school bus stops in the intersection when it's our turn to go."
Four light cycles later we were on our way. I jumped out at Sacramento and walked up to Broadway, taking a roundabout route through Jackson Square. I love the old brick buildings and how quiet it is down there outside of working hours.
There were clots of people in front of Vesuvio and City Lights, taking pictures, smoking cigarettes, peering at the books in the window displays.
I saw L & H waiting for me on the corner.
Later, after dinner and coffee, I left L & H near their hotel and walked down to catch the 38.
The bus arrived a few minutes later. I sat in the back. The man in front of me clutched his head in his hands and mumbled to himself. I hoped he wouldn't get out at my stop so I watched him, but at some point I must have gotten distracted because he disappeared somewhere between Divisadero and Collins.
I stepped out of the bus at my stop. The fog obscured the traffic lights so that they looked soft, almost a suggestion instead of a direction.
The bus was crowded. I sat in a window seat with several different seatmates - a new one every couple of stops.
At 4th and King the neon was burnt out on the sign for Taqueria, so that it just read, queria.
Our bus inched up 2nd Street. Near Harrison, a woman carried a light blue bowler hat as though it was a precious object, holding it in both hands in front of her body.
The bus got caught at the light at Bush Street. It's a short light and cars kept stopping in the intersection. The man sitting next to me sighed. A woman standing next to him said, "This is insane, isn't it?"
My seatmate said, "The cars just keep coming."
I said, "Bet you that school bus stops in the intersection when it's our turn to go."
Four light cycles later we were on our way. I jumped out at Sacramento and walked up to Broadway, taking a roundabout route through Jackson Square. I love the old brick buildings and how quiet it is down there outside of working hours.
There were clots of people in front of Vesuvio and City Lights, taking pictures, smoking cigarettes, peering at the books in the window displays.
I saw L & H waiting for me on the corner.
Later, after dinner and coffee, I left L & H near their hotel and walked down to catch the 38.
The bus arrived a few minutes later. I sat in the back. The man in front of me clutched his head in his hands and mumbled to himself. I hoped he wouldn't get out at my stop so I watched him, but at some point I must have gotten distracted because he disappeared somewhere between Divisadero and Collins.
I stepped out of the bus at my stop. The fog obscured the traffic lights so that they looked soft, almost a suggestion instead of a direction.
posted by Rachel at 11:18 AM
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