Bus Report #1085

 I caught the 38 today after running errands and going to the Farmer's Market.

I wanted to find some flowers and didn't see what I liked at the market. I rode up to the florist near 20th. I asked if they had any Sweet William, and the woman frowned. "I don't think I know what those are," she said.

I had a moment of confusion - wondered if I've spent my whole life calling flowers by the wrong name -  but then another woman who was arranging bouquets at the back said, "We usually have them, just not today."

I thanked them and started walking back towards home.

A familiar figure hurried down Geary. Even in his mask and his sunglasses, I'd recognize Mister Polite anywhere. I haven't seen him in months, but we both waved, and he stopped walking, turned, and said, "How are things? How are you doing?" and he gestured to the mask and apologized, "It's me," he said. "You know."

I nodded. "Of course," I said. "I gotcha. It's lovely to see you."

He tipped his hat (I swear, he really did), and went on his way.