Bus Report #824
Down on Fillmore I waited for the 22 with the construction worker who always stands too close to me and his friends, the man who never closes his mouth and another man who always tries to shove his way onto the bus even if the bus is empty.
A man was napping in the bus stop but he woke up and started following and talking to a woman who looked as though she'd seen better mornings. She crossed the street and the man doubled back, tried to get my attention. I didn't want to talk with him, so I shook my head and gestured in the direction of the bus. Leave me alone, I said. I'm just waiting for the bus. He turned to a boy who had just arrived, a tall blond kid in a Ghostbusters T-shirt. He stood very close to the boy and said something to him, and laughed, and said it again.
The three construction workers left, walking up Fillmore to the next stop. The boy and the man exchanged another few words and the man wandered off.
When the bus arrived I got on and sat in a window seat, listened to music and zoned out.
A few stops later, pretty man got on and walked to the back of the bus, sliding into the seat beside me. He moves like a dancer - fluidly, self-assured. Crossed his legs and balanced his leather pouch on his knees. Today's outfit was a watch cap, black shoes, black jeans, black flowy top over a grey shirt, slim watch with a black rubber watch band.
Still no sign of his future - Mister Fantastic is still out of town, or sleeping in, or staycationing.
At my stop, pretty man folded his leather pouch under his arm and stood up in one quick movement.
"Thanks," I said. He ducked his head and half-smiled, and sat back down.