Tuesday, September 24, 2019

Bus Report #1043

This morning was cool and dark but the peach-pink sunrise told me it was going to be a warm day.
My walk to the bus stop was full of "Miss Rachel's Neighborhood" moments, as M. used to always tease.

Joan was in the donut shop, sitting in the window, and she smiled and waved as I passed by. I grinned at her and waved back.

I stopped to chat with the delivery guy at Schubert's as he unloaded sacks of flour from his truck. He is a petite guy and those bags must outweigh him a bit. "How are you this morning, miss?" he asked, piling another bag onto his dolly.
"Good, good, and you?"
"Oh, I'm just fine, miss. You have a great day."
"See you later," I replied.

I waved to the friendly Recology guy with his headlamp and thick glasses. He swung a pair of black trash cans down from the truck like it was nothing. "Hey there," he said.

The skateboard kid who takes the bus with me down to Valencia stepped out his front door, board in hand, and we said "hey" before he took off on his board to the bus stop.

The bus was early. The driver said, "Hey, welcome back, you been on vacation?"
I just laughed. "I wish."

Thursday, September 19, 2019

Bus Report #1042

This morning, some excitement while waiting for the bus.
I turned the corner and walked to the bus stop, and then noticed water, everywhere.
Water coursing down the street, but from where?
Just up ahead, by the middle school, a geyser of epic proportions. Water shot up from the ground, up to the second story of the building. Never ending. Like a waterfall, in the heart of the city.

There was a police car there already, not that the cop could do anything.
Several of us (me, a kid walking a dog, some folks from the gym) watched and marveled.

A firetruck roared down Arguello a moment later, screeched to a stop in front of the school.
The firefighters were head to toe in gear. At first they watched the water spurting from what looked like a damaged fire hydrant, and then two of them ducked into the water.
In the early morning light they looked shrouded in mist even as the water pounded down upon them.

Olga slowly crossed the street, leaning on her cane. We greeted each other in English, in Russian, and stared and pointed at the firefighters' progress. She said, "Is like riviera. River?"
"Yes," I agreed. "The San Francisco Riviera."
She laughed.

On the bus, the mom with the two sons sat with the kids in the front by the driver. The older boy jumped up and pointed at the unusual scene.

"Looks like a broken um, water thing," I said, rummaging in my bag for my Clipper Card.
"Hydrant?" he offered.
"Yeah, hydrant."

As we pulled away from the curb we all stared at the firefighters, still trying to shut off the water.

I hope they got it done, and that the school isn't drenched inside.

Thursday, September 12, 2019

Bus Report #1041

Yesterday I caught the 33 with the Frenchman.
He said, "You were right, I think they changed the schedule."
"Yep, it's annoying," I replied as we got on the bus.
"I don't need to be at work at 7," he said.
"Me either, have a great day!" and we sat down and settled in for our commutes. It wasn't 7 when I got to work, luckily, but it was still early.

After work I ran errands before meeting up with some friends at Oasis Cafe on Divisadero. I caught the 24 on Castro and sat in the back, headphones on, sunglasses on.
A woman stomped onto the bus and sat behind me. I heard her say something loudly, couldn't figure out what it was. I took off my headphones and said, "I'm sorry, what's that?"
I told her and put my headphones back on.
She proceeded to loudly talk at everyone else, gesticulating wildly, and yelled at the driver a few times. Everyone sat silently. Looked away from her. Aggressively looked away from her, if that's a thing.

I got out at Hayes and went to Rare Device, then walked the rest of the way to Oasis.

This morning the sky was a beautiful peach-orange-pink-grey-blue, an Ed Ruscha Los Angeles sky. I know what that means, we're in a heat wave.

No one at the bus stop when I arrived, but just before the bus turned the corner, Olga toddled up on her cane. We greeted each other in English and then I said good morning in my bad Russian.

We smiled and giggled at each other and I pointed to the bus. "You're right on time!"

I got out at my usual stop, said hi to the guys at the garage.

Got to work before the heat started.

Stay cool today, folks!

Wednesday, September 04, 2019

Bus Report #1040

I dreamt last night that I was walking barefoot through a pile of used needles and other trash on my way to work. Luckily that is all it was. The sidewalks today were, for the most part, clean.

I walked down the street in the fog. Past our sleeping neighborhood homeless women. Past the closed-up corner store ("Gran re-opening Wed. 9/4, we miss you all!").
I goodmorninged the Recology guys and the owner of Toy Boat.

Waved and cooed at the baby who toddled down Clement clutching her family dog's leash. The dog was patient and walked slowly behind her. The baby's dad brought up the rear, sleepy, yawning.

The bus was later than I expected. I swear, they've redone the schedule without any warning. My early bus is now too early and the late one is five minutes away from being too late.

When the bus arrived I asked the driver. He wasn't sure about the schedule change but he was certain he was right on time.

The mom with the two boys got on the bus, only this time the little guy was not in a stroller, he was walking! He needed his mom and older brother to help him, but man. That's huge. I grinned and said good morning to them and watched the three of them find seats together in the front. Mom with her arm around the little one in the seat, the big brother facing his family. The little guy sat quietly the whole ride. This is going to be big for them, really big. They deserve it.

We cruised through the Haight and the Castro, barely stopping but for a couple of people.

I hopped out at my usual stop. Crossed the street with a couple other co-passengers. One of them works at the book donation center. He always speeds ahead of me but we get there around the same time. I don't know how it works.

At the corner, construction workers smoothed wet concrete to make a new bulb-out. I watched their work for a moment. It was mesmerizing. That concrete, so smooth. so, so smooth.