Bus Report #772
The first day of the visit we went to the Wharf and I took her to Musee Mecanique - Well worth the tourists in shorts and sandals, the street performers, the ubiquitous T-shirt stands.
Afterwards we got on a very crowded F Market, headed for the Castro.
The F was packed, completely, and I had to lean over a couple of teen girls to let someone into the seat behind me. One of the girls sucked her teeth and put her phone to her ear, and pretended she was making a call (she was actually talking to the girl sitting in front of her).
"Yeah, this bitch doesn't respect my personal bubble," she said.
And on, and on, and on.
(This is where I would put a few more anecdotes about the teens, but then this post would be even more insane, and twice as long).
The "personal bubble" girl was with a half-dozen friends who spent the bulk of the ride openly talking about other passengers, shrieking, threatening to beat people, and just generally being awful.
The F started to thin out and E. and I sat in the back, a few rows away from the girl and her friends.
And then, it got interesting.
The kids had large bags with them and they opened all of them on the seats and in the middle of the aisle floor. They'd been shoplifting - and it looked like they'd been at it for hours. The bags were full of name brand shampoo and conditioners, and the kids talked about how much they could get for them, and how they managed to steal them. They decided to try their luck at the new CVS on Haight and Fillmore.
As we passed the Market Street Safeway, one of the girls reminisced about the time they got caught by security and the guard threatened to call the cops.
E. and I looked at each other, and I know we were both thinking that the security guard had obviously missed a golden opportunity.
The talk switched to Halloween, and what their costumes would be.
One of the girls asked what they thought she should be. "A cheerleader," suggested her friend. "With your cute little baby belly, that would look good."
Um, no, it wouldn't.
We got off the F and retreated into Twin Peaks for a drink and to decompress for a while.
It was well over an hour later when we got on a 24 Divisadero bus and headed toward home.
At Divisadero and Haight a few familiar faces got on the bus and settled into the seats across from us.
It was the teens, fresh from another shoplifting excursion. This time, they had bottles of liquor and (I think) some beef jerky.
Of all the buses in all the city, and they had to be on ours...