Bus Report #965
As usual, the ride down Townsend to Second was slow and frustrating. Second Street was congested, not as awful as it could have been, but our driver was having none of it.
He turned on to Brannan and then swung over to Third, trying to get around the traffic.
I didn't mind - I'd still be more than on time - but some of the other passengers were getting nervous.
The driver barrelled down Third until we hit the traffic tangle on Folsom. He needed to get over to the right but was having trouble doing so.
He hollered back to us, his bewildered passengers. "Can I turn right here?"
Yes, you can.
"Can you all see behind me, am I okay to turn?"
We can, and yes, you're okay, but....
He turned a little too widely and had to back up into the intersection.
Finally, we were on Folsom, inching our way through the traffic to Second.
He let a few people out at Second and Folsom and kept on going.
Did we save any time? Not according to my watch!
This morning, the homeless woman in my neighborhood who I worry about all the time was waiting at the bus stop with me. She had her bags with her as she always does. When the bus arrived, she dragged her suitcase and bags up the stairs and stowed them over to the side while she counted out coins to pay her fare. She paid, got a transfer, and sat down. She talked to herself quietly as she does most of the time.
I noticed someone staring at her and immediately felt defensive. Leave her alone, I wanted to say. She's fine. She's our neighbor.
I don't know where she was going this morning. I always, always hope she will some day feel comfortable enough to accept the help that I know has been extended to her.
Meanwhile, I've got her back.