Bus Report #762
This morning the (new) 22 Fillmore driver saw me approaching the stop, smirked, and kept going. I think she wanted to see me run after the bus - something I usually don't do - but with the Muni summer schedule I knew that I would be standing around for a while if I didn't. So I ran and caught the bus at the next stop, and was the last person on.
Whew.
The 80's woman got on, and the nurse she usually talks to.
Cue the arrival of Mr. Fantastic, a new baseball cap on his flattop-bouffant, his neon yellow wristlet, and a sweatshirt patterned with multicolor triangles.
At Guerrero a woman got on and wrestled her suitcase to the front of the bus. She sat down and set a full bowl of ramen noodles in broth next to her on the seat.
She took a pack of tortillas from her suitcase and rested one of them on her lap while she opened another package, a squeezy tube of what had to be refried beans. She squeezed some beans onto the tortilla and then proceeded to smear the beans all over the face of the tortilla with her fingers. Do I even need to bother to tell you it was disgusting to watch?
The last straw was what she did next: she scooped a handful of dripping ramen noodles out of the bowl and into the tortilla, her hand trailing oily soup broth onto the seat, her lap, and her shirt.
She rolled the whole thing up, and ate it with gusto, licking her fingers and her palms afterwards, in an attempt, I assume, to tidy up.
She got out at 16th and Mission, leaving a soup-splattered seat in her wake.
Whew.
The 80's woman got on, and the nurse she usually talks to.
Cue the arrival of Mr. Fantastic, a new baseball cap on his flattop-bouffant, his neon yellow wristlet, and a sweatshirt patterned with multicolor triangles.
At Guerrero a woman got on and wrestled her suitcase to the front of the bus. She sat down and set a full bowl of ramen noodles in broth next to her on the seat.
She took a pack of tortillas from her suitcase and rested one of them on her lap while she opened another package, a squeezy tube of what had to be refried beans. She squeezed some beans onto the tortilla and then proceeded to smear the beans all over the face of the tortilla with her fingers. Do I even need to bother to tell you it was disgusting to watch?
The last straw was what she did next: she scooped a handful of dripping ramen noodles out of the bowl and into the tortilla, her hand trailing oily soup broth onto the seat, her lap, and her shirt.
She rolled the whole thing up, and ate it with gusto, licking her fingers and her palms afterwards, in an attempt, I assume, to tidy up.
She got out at 16th and Mission, leaving a soup-splattered seat in her wake.
posted by Rachel at 1:33 PM
3 Comments:
Eww.
On another note, I want someone to call me "Mister Fanstastic."
or even "Mr. Fantastic." stupid phone.
Consider it done, John. This city's big enough for two Mr. Fantastics, don't you think?
And yeah... EW.
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