Thursday, May 23, 2013

Bus Report #748

I've been taking the 19 Polk a lot lately, to meet up with the Tuesday night folks at It's A Grind on Polk Street (and a quick plug for It's A Grind - great drinks, comfy atmosphere and sweet baristas.)

This week, I got on the bus and a teenage boy was sprawled out, taking up three seats in the back.
I gestured to one of the seats and he grudgingly swung his feet down, then back up onto the seat between us.
Across from me sat the older woman who always sits in the same spot. She was reading a library book that had reviews on the back, one of which boasted that the book was critically acclaimed, but no matter how I tilted my head I couldn't see the title.

Three boys in the back of the bus passed the time rolling joints.
A mom and her beautiful little daughter played with the mom's phone.

At Market Street the teen sitting next to me suddenly sat up (waves of sweat stench emanating from him) and growled. It was startling, and even the woman who was reading looked up, frowned, then returned to her book.
The kid got out and dashed across the street.

At Civic Center a couple got on. The boyfriend sat in the back of the bus and the girlfriend sat next to me. She spent the next ten minutes trying to tattoo her finger with a black needle. I didn't see how it worked out.

When I got out and went in to the cafe, I was surprised to see a familiar face - the creepy little guy with the thick red beard. He looked exactly the same as ever, just as little, just as creepy, just as red-bearded.

Seeing him after so long made me think about The Handsome South Asian Chef, Carmen, and Ebony, three folks I haven't seen in far, far too long.

Bus Report #746

I saw a video of the latest Improv Everywhere stunt, where they staged a talk show on a subway car. It was awesome, but I kept thinking, yeah, San Francisco's got you guys beat, because we've got the Lacey Show at least five days a week, without even trying.

The 22 stops at Fillmore and I get on, greet Lacey (with her Muni-orange earrings and bangle bracelets), greet the World's Oldest School Crossing Guard, the sleepy couple in the back of the bus.

The two construction workers zoom around the corner and run onto the bus, even though Lacey will always wait for them. They say hi, nod to her, and smile.

Two stops later on boards the 80's woman (this week she's styling a red parka and red nail polish, red Reeboks, black combs holding back her hair, and more dark, pancaked makeup), the chatty woman with the pageboy haircut, and the teens. Everyone greets Lacey, jostles for seats up front so they can chat with her.

The grandma and her adorable little grandson, Josiah. He can't be older than five but he's fallen under Lacey's spell, too. An older gentleman stands up and moves towards the back of the bus so Josiah can climb up onto the seat closest to Lacey and talk with her.

The heavyset man who proudly tells Lacey he got his bonus last week.
The dude with the peyos-like hair escaping his baseball hat.
Everyone has to talk to Lacey, joke with her, make her laugh.

Have you ever been on such a lively bus, at 6:40 in the morning?

Bus Report #745

22 Fillmore this morning, headed to work.
Accident scene at 16th and South Van Ness - Police cars with flashing lights, yellow caution tape, and an unnecessary ambulance parked in the middle of the street with its doors thrown open.
Nearby, diagonal in the street, a body covered in a plastic sheet.
Half the passengers in our bus stood up to get a better look.
My seatmate shook her head, said, "Sad."
I agreed. There was nothing else to say.