Bus Report #778
The bus arrived and it was full of familiar faces. Mr. Taylor and the smiley teenage girl, the mom with the cute little wiggle worm baby, the man who always smells like hot Ethiopian spices, the man who works at Bi-Rite, the two loud construction workers and the woman who always looks worried about something.
At Hayes a couple of guys from the halfway house got on the bus. One of them, in his paint-spattered pants and faded baseball cap, always has a smile and a kind word for the people sitting around him. He grinned and waved at the baby and asked his mom how old he was (7 months this week).
A moment later I saw a couple of other passengers smiling at him as he handed the baby's mom a folded $20 bill. She thanked him and tucked the money into her purse.
I got off the bus and walked down 16th to work. For once, and probably for the only time, Potrero Hill smelled delicious this morning.
Like schmaltzy chicken soup and warm, sour red cabbage. As I turned the corner to walk up our street, the smell shifted to something else equally as good - Tabatchnick brand split pea soup.