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.
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.
posted by Rachel at 1:02 PM
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