Bus Report #704

Muni, 0, Rachel, 0

A tale of woe:

Tuesday night and I had to be back in my neighborhood earlier than usual. I’d run some errands for work so I found myself at a 19 Polk stop. No problem, the bus was right around the corner. I even found a seat.

I got out at Sutter and crossed the street to wait for the 2 Clement. There were a few people already waiting. A kid who had been on my 19 walked over and sat down. A woman asked me, “Does this bus cross Fillmore?”

I nodded. “They both do,” I said.

An older man with glasses and a white beard said, “Where are you going on Fillmore?”

“I’ll know it when I see it,” the woman said. “Do you know when the bus is supposed to be here?”

The kid from my bus took his phone out of his pocket and checked the schedule. “Hmm,” he said. “It says 10 minutes for the 3 and 25 minutes for the 2.”

Ugh.

But all hope was not lost, not yet – a 2 Clement came in to view.

It crossed Polk and… kept going. Did not stop for us even though one man waved with both arms.

It was 5:15.

The kid consulted his phone again. “It still says 10 minutes for the 3. And there’s no prediction for the 2.”

We waited.

The man with the beard made a phone call, then took off. “I’ll just walk, I guess,” he said when he left.

The woman who was headed to Fillmore gave up and hailed a cab.

The kid and I stood at the curb and squinted up the hill.

“Maybe there’s some problem downtown?” I guessed. “Cause usually at least the 3 is on time.”

“Yeah, maybe,” said the kid. “But I have to be somewhere soon. And I’m too lazy to walk.”

He was going to Arguello. I told him not to feel bad… it would be an all uphill walk.

We waited.

At 5:45 we decided we’d split a cab if we were still waiting at 6.

He checked his phone again. “Weird,” he said. “There are 3s in 5 minutes, 6 minutes and 7 minutes, and a 2 in 8 minutes.”

By this point, a new batch of folks were waiting in the bus stop. A woman with teased, fried black hair, an older woman in hospital scrubs, and a twitchy little guy who I recognized from around my neighborhood.

The kid and I debated if the buses were really en route.

He decided he’d take the second or third of the 3s. I said I’d hold out for the 2, but take the last 3 if I didn’t see the 2.

The woman in scrubs smiled and nodded. “Sounds like you two have really been thinking about this,” she said.

“Well, we’ve had long enough to plan,” I said. “We’ve been here over half an hour.”

But then, like magic, there were four buses right there, back to back.

We all said our goodbyes and got on our buses.

I got back to my neighborhood with five minutes to spare.