Bus Report #886

The other night, coming home on the 1 California.
Our driver was a ginger-haired, blue-pale man with a deep voice.
When we hit Fillmore he came over the P.A., said, "Faaabulous Fillmore, everyone. This is the stop for fabulous Fillmore."
I giggled.
My seat mate, a woman with curly hair and bright red lipstick, a shy smile, said, "Sometimes, a little too fabulous for me."
"Me, too," I said, taking off my headphones. "Well, too fabulous for my wallet most of the time, anyway."
"Yes," she said, nodding. "Yes, for me, too."