Bus Report #749
Yesterday morning on the 22 Fillmore, and everything was business as usual. Lacey and her admirers sitting up front, the 80's lady with her too-thick makeup and her hightops, the two construction workers tearing around the corner and dashing to the bus.
I settled in to my seat, next to a man who really would have preferred his backpack to have the seat instead of me.
A couple rows ahead of us there was an unassuming older woman, a fleece vest over her hospital scrubs, rocking out to music on her headphones. She wasn't just nodding her head to the music, or rolling her shoulders. This woman was capital-D-Dancing, even if she was sitting down the whole time.
I loved watching her dance moves, even down to some subtle arm gestures.
A mom and her two kids got on and sat a few seats away from the dancer. One of the kids, a little girl, couldn't stop staring at the dancer. She'd poke her little face out from the hood of her bright pink jacket, stare a little, and then slouch back down in her seat.
I settled in to my seat, next to a man who really would have preferred his backpack to have the seat instead of me.
A couple rows ahead of us there was an unassuming older woman, a fleece vest over her hospital scrubs, rocking out to music on her headphones. She wasn't just nodding her head to the music, or rolling her shoulders. This woman was capital-D-Dancing, even if she was sitting down the whole time.
I loved watching her dance moves, even down to some subtle arm gestures.
A mom and her two kids got on and sat a few seats away from the dancer. One of the kids, a little girl, couldn't stop staring at the dancer. She'd poke her little face out from the hood of her bright pink jacket, stare a little, and then slouch back down in her seat.
posted by Rachel at 12:44 PM
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