Bus Report #881

Tuesday, late afternoon on the 19 Polk.

It's crowded but I've got a seat near the back since most of the other people who boarded when I did were afraid to sit back there with the laughing teens and the man drinking a beer wrapped in a paper bag.
Amateurs, I thought, slipping past the knot of CCA students to an open seat next to the beer drinker.
So he's a little drunk, and the kids are laughing so hard they're sliding out of their seats. Who cares?

At the roundabout another regular gets on. He's always reading something interesting. Tonight it is a book by Donald Goines. Last week, it was a Swedish mystery novel. Eclectic taste.

At Civic Center a man gets on. He's a dusty, smelly zombie staring straight ahead, standing and then sitting one seat away from me.
When he gets up to leave the bus a few blocks later, his pants fall down to his ankles but it doesn't faze him and he steps down from the bus, pants bunched up on top of his shoes. He's not wearing any underwear so we all get an eyeful of way more of him than we'd like to.

A woman sitting across from me can't hide her shock. She catches my eyes and mouths, "Oh my god."
I nod my head, say, "Yeah."