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.
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.
posted by Rachel at 1:30 PM
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