Bus Report #798
I waited in the dark at the 22 Fillmore stop at Geary and Fillmore last week, 6:45 am, in the rain.
Three men inhabited the benches in the stop, their granny carts and shopping carts flush against the etched glass wall.
They smelled ripe, as though they hadn't bathed in a while. I breathed through my mouth and hoped the bus would come soon.
The guys traded cigarettes, and then, after a quick glance at me, the man sitting closest to where I was standing held up a small vial of something and passed it to his friend.
The bus pulled up a moment later and I got on.
Three men inhabited the benches in the stop, their granny carts and shopping carts flush against the etched glass wall.
They smelled ripe, as though they hadn't bathed in a while. I breathed through my mouth and hoped the bus would come soon.
The guys traded cigarettes, and then, after a quick glance at me, the man sitting closest to where I was standing held up a small vial of something and passed it to his friend.
The bus pulled up a moment later and I got on.
posted by Rachel at 5:37 PM
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