Monday, January 17, 2022

Bus Report #1076

 A weekend on Muni, going hither, thither.

First I met up with Michael to walk around Hayes Valley and order new glasses.

I took the 38 down to Van Ness and walked the rest of the way to meet up. Encampments up and down Van Ness and most alleys, trash clogging the storm drains. 

Weird juxtaposition with the new, strange sculptures in the median of Van Ness - shiny and alien and... Well, I don't like them, but maybe you do, so I won't be unkind.

Books Inc. at Opera Plaza was open so I went in. Still good. Still love it. Still call it A Clean Well Lighted Place For Books half the time. They have a lot of good new stuff, go check it out!

Michael and I walked from his place to Hayes and back, stopping to people watch at Chez Maman and at Fig & Thistle, where apparently someone was shooting a music video. Interesting.

On my way home I dodged broken needles and needle caps and waited for what turned out to be an insanely crowded 5 Fulton bus.

The most crowded bus I've been on in years - we were packed in so tightly my bag was against one man's leg, my hip against another man's shoulder (he was seated). He didn't like the bodies (mine, another woman's) pressing against him but he made no move to slide farther into his seat, so what could we do? People got on and got on. I get it, with no other buses scheduled for 20 minutes what option did they have? But still.

The bus thinned by the time we got to Fillmore, praise the gods of Muni.

I moved back and sat near an open window. Ahhhh. It was me, a few folks with bulging bags from the farmer's market, and other folks staring out the windows, either looking for their stop, or zoning out.

In the back, furthermost seat, sat a kid in a Doja Cat T-shirt, huge headphones on his head. He grooved to his music. Smiled so widely that even with his mask on I could tell he was happy. It was lovely to see.

Divisadero. I felt a pull to get out, to wander and eat and shop, but I had places to be. I was glad to see Oasis Cafe open. I miss eating there.

As we neared my stop, I got nervous. I know, I know, I'm a broken record these days but it is not easy.

But. Two teenage boys sat by the doors, balaclavas on instead of face masks. They kept gesturing to each other and eyeing each other as people got ready to disembark. It looked like they were debating who to follow off the bus and rob. The old folks with their shopping got the most attention. A college student gabbing while clutching her phone merited a raised eyebrow from the kid sitting closest to the door. Seriously. I don't say it lightly, but they were going to do it to someone that day.

And it wasn't going to be me. 

I got out at 8th and Fulton and walked home down the most populated blocks between there and home.

I hope everyone got home okay.

Monday, January 10, 2022

Bus Report #1075

 My commutes and rides have been relatively uneventful lately, but rest assured I am still on Muni several days a week. 

Today I walked down to the bus a few minutes later than usual, Monday mornings being, you know, Monday mornings.

The bus arrived and I got on, sat in my single seat by the window, which I pushed all the way open before I was even seated.

At the next stop the boy who used to ride the bus with his mom and little brother got on. Taller, older, old enough to ride by himself. We smiled at each other. He went to sit in the back and spent his commute watching videos with the sound on. Normally it would bother me, but he's a good kid. 

More than a few Betty White tributes in the Castro, warming my heart for the duration of the ride.

We met the sunrise just before the hairpin turn onto Market. The city looked beautiful - foggy, matte grey everywhere, the buildings punching up through the hazy early morning light.

Dolores Park an elderly woman (fully masked, face shielded) wheeled her even older relative (mom? sister?) onto the bus. The seated woman also masked, face shielded, in one of those dusty lavender padded jackets that were popular in the 80s. The woman wheeling had a hard time situating her mom in the wheelchair space in the front, so our driver got up and helped. Nice.

At Mission and 18th the lights from El Ranchito Market shone brightly, illuminating the sheer abundance of the place. Mountains of fruit and vegetables out front. The shelves inside the market stocked full up to the ceiling as always.

Three heavily masked and backpacked folks got on, followed by someone with neither mask nor backpack. This man had a shaved head, thin coat, no mask in sight. He clutched two white pillows in his arms. One of the pillows was splashed with bright red blood. Actual blood. I cringed.

The bloody pillow man got out at the next stop, thankfully. Our driver honked at the tech bus idling in our stop (so I guess they're back, fabulous!). 

At Potrero I got out, thanked our driver. 

In the office, thinking of the bloody pillow, I washed my hands like Lady MacBeth.

And now the sun is shining and everything is beautiful. Have a great week!