Bus Report #1045
This morning I got to the bus stop early. No one else was waiting. The street was quiet and still dark, the light only just starting to filter in over the tops of the middle school across the street.
The boy on the skateboard zoomed over. I used to think he lived in the apartment with the wetsuit landing, but he actually lives two doors down. He nodded at me in acknowledgement, our usual morning greeting.
He sat on the bench and we both watched another man pick up a sodden, discarded vest, try it on, and then repeat the process with a ratty wet sweatshirt. The last clothing item in the pile was a pair of khakis.
I am not the praying type but I bargained with the universe to keep him from trying on the pants. Someone, or something, heard my plea.
Whew.
A moment later, someone on a bike whizzed around the corner. It was the Frenchman.
Alain smiled and waved and kept on riding. Good for him, I thought. He probably got to work before my bus even left its departure point.
Much later, after work, I walked to catch the 22. On the corner the staff from our neighborhood greasy spoon were gathered outside. I thought they were just chatting when I saw what had drawn them out - a tree had come down right outside the restaurant, hitting the owner's truck before falling diagonally into the street.
"When did that happen?" I asked.
Nasser just shook his head. "It just came down a little while ago. I can't believe it."
"Jeez, good luck," I said.
The bus rounded the corner. Ah well, I'd catch the next one.
But then the driver stopped, and honked, leaned out the window and gestured for me to get on board.
Three cheers for wonderful drivers! It was the man who used to be our delivery guy.
I said goodbye to the restaurant guys and hurried across the street.
On the bus everyone was looking at the downed tree.
"Check it out," said a scruffy guy with blond hair and filthy jeans.
"Right?" I made my way to the back of the bus and sat down.
The bus was quiet, everyone on their phones or listening to music. A couple got on, holding a bag between them. The bag moved. I looked closer: a little grey cat looked out through the mesh side of the bag. Meowed.
The boy on the skateboard zoomed over. I used to think he lived in the apartment with the wetsuit landing, but he actually lives two doors down. He nodded at me in acknowledgement, our usual morning greeting.
He sat on the bench and we both watched another man pick up a sodden, discarded vest, try it on, and then repeat the process with a ratty wet sweatshirt. The last clothing item in the pile was a pair of khakis.
I am not the praying type but I bargained with the universe to keep him from trying on the pants. Someone, or something, heard my plea.
Whew.
A moment later, someone on a bike whizzed around the corner. It was the Frenchman.
Alain smiled and waved and kept on riding. Good for him, I thought. He probably got to work before my bus even left its departure point.
Much later, after work, I walked to catch the 22. On the corner the staff from our neighborhood greasy spoon were gathered outside. I thought they were just chatting when I saw what had drawn them out - a tree had come down right outside the restaurant, hitting the owner's truck before falling diagonally into the street.
"When did that happen?" I asked.
Nasser just shook his head. "It just came down a little while ago. I can't believe it."
"Jeez, good luck," I said.
The bus rounded the corner. Ah well, I'd catch the next one.
But then the driver stopped, and honked, leaned out the window and gestured for me to get on board.
Three cheers for wonderful drivers! It was the man who used to be our delivery guy.
I said goodbye to the restaurant guys and hurried across the street.
On the bus everyone was looking at the downed tree.
"Check it out," said a scruffy guy with blond hair and filthy jeans.
"Right?" I made my way to the back of the bus and sat down.
The bus was quiet, everyone on their phones or listening to music. A couple got on, holding a bag between them. The bag moved. I looked closer: a little grey cat looked out through the mesh side of the bag. Meowed.
posted by Rachel at 8:52 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home