Bus Report #915

Last night I stepped off the 38 on the corner of my street and was greeted by a familiar, petite figure.
One of the women I used to see on the bus all the time was waving at me, and smiling. She is a tiny woman with curly salt and pepper hair and big, plastic-framed glasses. Years ago, I remember her trying to give me a cabbage she had just gotten in Chinatown. She is a sweet person.

I took off my headphones. "Hi," I said, smiling back at her. "It's been a while."
"Long time no see," she said, grabbing my arm. "You work?"
"Yes," I replied. "Still working. Are you retired now?"
She nodded her head vigorously. "Retire two years." She shrugged her shoulders. "Retire good, but no money."
I laughed. "Ah, well, I guess it's a trade off."
She shook her head, all the while still smiling, and said, "Free time but no money."
We walked down the block a few paces before she had to cross the street.
"Nice seeing you," I said.
"You, too," she replied.