Bus Report #964
Leon was our driver. Courteous, friendly, he's great. I noticed our bus had one of the Muni ads with his photo on it. I wonder if he finds that strange at all.
At Mission Street, a toothless older woman tried to sneak in through the back door just as Leon had begun closing it. She cursed him out and yelled, and when she finally pushed her way through the door and climbed up the stairs, she yelled at him again for not opening the door, and then for driving off before she was seated.
They traded barbs for the next few blocks. She was angry at him, he told her she was a freeloader and he didn't have to let her on if he didn't want to.
"I'm no freeloader," she said, but she made no move to pay her fare or show a transfer.
He looked at her in the mirror and rolled his eyes, and kept driving.
Fourth day in a row with the Giant Genie. That's always auspicious, I think. He sat in the front of the bus and went through his whole routine. Lotion on his face, head and hands, dandy brush, beard wax, the whole thing. There's comfort in that routine.
I hopped out at Potrero and grabbed a bagel for breakfast. Crossing the street afterwards, I ran in to coworker D., headed for the gym. "Hey, Rachel!" he called as he passed by.
I pulled off my headphones, said, "Hey, you - you're early today!"
He grinned and nodded and hoisted his gym bag.