Bus Report #722

Early morning on Fillmore, waiting for the 22, just me, my thoughts, and a man across the street who danced his way up Fillmore, completely uninhibited. He would do a little jig, and stop, and throw his arms up, and then shimmy another few steps, twirl, and then let loose with some more fancy footwork.

To be fair, he seemed probably crazy or fucked up on drugs, but you know what? With my headphones on and music blasting in my ears, I was a candidate for Fillmore dancing, too.
Maybe one of these days.