Bus Report #793

This morning, the elderly schoolteacher and I missed the 38 Geary bus by mere seconds.
We stood in the bus shelter and lamented our bad timing. I just had to finish my tea, grab two apples instead of one, didn't I?
A few minutes later our sweet driver pulled up, wished us a good morning and a happy weekend. "Nice to see you, Rachel," he said, and I told him I hoped he'd have a good day.

Down on Fillmore, one of the construction workers and the smiley teen were already waiting for the 22.
The smiley teen waved and grinned at me, and continued her phone conversation.
We waited.
A couple of neighborhood creepers strolled by, talking to themselves and staring intently at a couple of pieces of paper trash mashed into the sidewalk.

The smiley teen greeted and hugged a few friends who were on their way to school.

From down the block I saw a bright yellow-clad figure shuffling down the street. When Mr. Henry Taylor, the world's oldest school crossing guard, walks to work, it is never a good sign.
He crossed the street and we exchanged hellos and good mornings, and I said, "Walking it today?"
He replied, "Well, it says no buses are coming for another 12 minutes at least."
Even Mr. Taylor can walk to work in 12 minutes. I wished him luck and a good weekend.
He waved goodbye to me and the smiley teen and shuffled off down Fillmore.
The bus took longer than 12 minutes, more like 20, and when it finally arrived there were about a dozen of us waiting to get on.
I got down to Potrero Hill half an hour later than I should have.
At least today's Friday.

Bus Report #792

Last night I went out to wait for the 22 Fillmore, but it was running late (due to a terrible accident at Fillmore and California, a woman was hit by a truck and has since died), so I hopped on the 10 Townsend.
Another regular from the 22 got on as well, a soft-spoken woman who is always bundled up even when it isn't cold out. Last night she had a puffy jacket on, and two knitted caps.
We chatted a bit, caught up, and then she excused herself to sit in the front. She's only recently started taking the 10 and still doesn't know the stops very well, and wanted to be sure she didn't miss her connection to Golden Gate Transit.

I got out downtown and transferred to the 38. My seatmate was not happy someone sat next to her, and spent the rest of the ride staring out the window and holding her purse tight against her chest. I wondered if I looked like a thief. Me, with my chipped nail polish, big headphones, bag full of vegetables, over due library books and two dented Thermoses. Bag lady was more like it. Bag lady with style.

Bus Report #791

The 19 Polk bus has a bad reputation - ask anyone who rides it with any regularity.
I've moaned about it, too, plenty of times, but I take the 19 a couple times a week these days and I'm starting to love it.
The route is a little circuitous but it gets from Potrero Hill to Market Street fairly quickly, sometimes in less than 15 minutes - much faster than the 10 Townsend.
When I'm heading to Polk Street I can be there in 25 minutes, on a good day.
What about the passengers, you ask? Awful kids, stinky folks, homeless crazies?
Well, sure, there are a lot of all of these, but...
The cutest pair of sisters were on my 19 yesterday afternoon, little girls singing Sunday school songs and playing hand-clapping games, making everyone smile. They were cuteness and innocence personified.
Even the twitchy guy in the back of the bus smiled, as he lotioned his hands with something that actually smelled good, and covered the cigarettes and beer stench of his seat mate.
A woman in fleece boots helped an old lady put on a pair of cataract glasses, and as we crossed Market Street the singing sisters and their mom got out, the little girls still singing as they stepped down off the bus.

I hopped out of the bus on Pine and walked down Polk towards the cafe I go to on Tuesday evenings. The bus had been early, so I took my time, and enjoyed the last of the day's sunshine before it got lost in the fog.

Bus Report #790

This morning on the 22 Fillmore -
The smiley teen
The wiggly worm baby and his mom
The construction workers
The 80's lady - dark makeup, big gold earrings, red parka, Reeboks.
Mr. Fantastic - in a houndstooth patterned fedora, all black outfit, brown shoes, and his signature neon yellow wristlet. Wowza.