Bus Report #1098

Every day is old home day in the city - and if you're me, someone who can't forget a name or a face.

I was walking in the park and saw a familiar figure sitting on a bench, throwing breadcrumbs to the ravens. And though I don't like people feeding birds in the park, I couldn't say anything to Terry, friend from the 33, who was relaxing on a bench feeding the three biggest birds I've seen in quite some time.

I stopped to talk (no surprise to anyone who knows me!).

She's retired now, makes crystal jewelry in her spare time. She was wearing a huge clear crystal necklace. I commented on it and she said, "thank you, honey," in her slightly southern accent. Her curly hair is completely white now, so light and fluffy and pretty. I told her she looked lovely in her green sweater and neon sneakers, a colorful summery look. 

We looked at the birds, squawking at each other and pecking at the pile of breadcrumbs.

"They're bigger than cats," I said.

Terry just smiled. "They're very, very smart, they recognize people, you know."

I nodded. "Oh yeah, they sure do."

A little more small talk and I went on my way. A smile on my face.

Bus Report #1097

 Sometimes people just want to connect.

A simple thing but we forget about it, don't we? 

I was waiting for the bus the other afternoon, downtown after a quick jaunt to our new IKEA. Market Street at 4th, not for the faint of heart on the best of days. But that's city life, right? Tourists with their backpacks and water bottles, delivery guys zipping around on scooters, unstable folks yelling and standing in the middle of the street.

A man crossed Market and came to wait in the bus stop. Older guy, dreads of varying lengths and thicknesses, carrying a couple shopping bags. I smiled. Old people are my weakness. Old people by themselves, my weakness' weakness.

"Ohhhhhh boy its cold," he said, whistling a bit. Semi toothless. Gorgeous brown eyes. Eyes with heart.

"It sure is," I said, "But we like it this way, don't we?"

He laughed. Stood closer to me than I'd normally like, but I didn't mind. "You bet," he said. "This is much better than the hot weather."

I gestured towards a tourist family in their shorts and sandals and the ubiquitous San Francisco zip up jackets always available for purchase down on the Wharf. "They'd disagree with us, but they'll live."

He roared with laughter. "You're so right, hahaha, we like the cold."

Just then, two buses pulled up. 

He held the door open for a handful of folks to get out. I said good bye, told him to have a great day, and got on the bus behind.

Bus Report #1096

 I was thinking about Roman the other day - DHL delivery guy turned bus driver. I hadn't seen him in a while and he popped up in my mind after receiving a DHL package at work.

Yesterday I was running errands around town. Bussed it to my garden plot to put in tomatoes and cilantro, then I wandered down the street to catch a Haight Street bus.

Imagine my surprise when I got on, and the driver was Roman!
He grinned, a big smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, and said, "hey there you!"

I smiled back. "I was just thinking of you," I said. "great to see you."

We chatted, Roman reminiscing about the old days. "I've probably known you for what, 20 years?" he asked, as we pulled into traffic.

"At least," I replied. "The good old days."

"Well, you look good," he told me. I thanked him and repaid the compliment.

When it was time to jump out and catch my connecting bus, we waved at each other until the bus moved out of view.

Bus Report #1095

Yesterday afternoon I booked it to the bus, and had the good fortune to catch it without having to speedwalk or break into a run. The driver? A familiar face, our old friend Keith.

"Haven't seen you in ages," he said, grinning.

"Hey, good to see you," I told him. "What's new? What's the gossip?"

He smiled again and told me of his recent travels to Japan, then said "otherwise, not a whole lot."

The bus was virtually empty and I settled into a seat near the back. We didn't stop much and never filled up which I took to mean we were tailgating another bus, but no.

As we approached McAllister Keith announced it would be the last stop, that we'd have to get out and get on the bus right behind him. 

Okay, then.

We all deboarded at McAllister (I waved and shouted my goodbyes) and transferred to another 22 Fillmore moments later. 

Bus Report #1094

 Crowded 22 Fillmore on the way home the other night.

Students and tourists and regular commuters, standing room only until Valencia Street.

At Dolores a man got on and, grinning, launched himself into the arms of another man sitting in front of me. They shared the longest hug - which was just delightful to see - and then had a very animated conversation for the duration of my ride. Brothers, old friends or boyfriends, didn't matter. Pure joy on their faces and it radiated outward.

All the teens these days are dressing like we did back in school and it melts my brain. There have been times when I've looked up from my podcast listening reverie to see a trio of girls that reminded me of MBTA commutes in the 1990s with M. and N., in our wide leg painter's pants and our flannel and our Nirvana T-Shirts.

At Geary we just caught the 38 outbound. Another crowded bus but I slid into a seat between a man who was eating a sandwich and a woman who was facetiming a friend, loudly. I will never understand the urge to do that - I wouldn't even take a regular phone call on Muni.

Hopped out the bus at 9th and walked the rest of the way.

Bus Report #1093

 Today was gorgeous and we deserve it, after all the rain and the wind and the cold of the past weeks.

In this part of town there's an overlap of people dressed in beautiful red for Lunar New Year, and people dressed in beautiful red for today's Super Bowl.

All up and down Clement, a sea of red and gold - people walking to parties for both occasions, stopping at the markets for beers or oranges.

On the way to the Farmer's Market I meet one of my favorite people - Carmen, my longtime friend from the 22 Fillmore. I've seen her twice this year which is twice more than I saw her all last year. And she's still just lovely. We hugged and chatted in the middle of Clement as we do, catching up quickly so she could join her family for Super Bowl festivities.

At the edge of the Farmer's Market, a couple in wedding outfits (suit for him, white wedding gown for her) having their wedding photos taken with Clement as their background. Delightful.

E. and I took a long walk, stopped for fresh veg in the market and dim sum at Gourmet Dim Sum.

The 'doom loop' has skipped Clement, I am happy to report.

People everywhere, queues at the shops, Super Bowl and Valentine's balloon sculptures in front of Sparky's, too many dogs and more flowers and citrus spilling from shop fronts than anyone could possibly go home with.

You look great, Carmen said, just before we parted. 

I thanked her and said the same, which was true, she always looks great but more than that she looked so happy. She laughed and said it was almost her birthday.

I wished her a happy one, and went on my way.

Bus Report #1092

 I cracked the construction worker the other day.

Let me start at the beginning. 

A few months ago a new person started waiting for the 33 with me in the morning - a very, very tall construction worker who slumped onto the bench by the pizza place, smoking and staring into space as we both waited separately, but also together, for the bus.

You know how it goes. Your fellow passengers can either be strangers or they can be acquaintances or they can be friends. 

So for months we've waited for the 33 together, him with his smoking, me with my podcasts, while the other early morning folk go about their routines. The newspaper delivery guy in the red SUV, U-turning at Clement and Arguello to toss papers onto three consecutive porches. The tall bicyclist who always waves and says hi. The petite cyclist who quietly rides past the bus stop just before, or just after, the tall guy. The nurse who walks to the 38. The floppy-haired guy who speedwalks to the mailbox then runs across Arguello dodging traffic.

During the recent rains I waited under the awning at the pizza spot and the construction worker joined me. Almost started smoking but as I was standing right beside him, he stood at the edge of the sidewalk and had a quick smoke while we waited. When the bus arrived, he let me on first.

The next day, more rain, this time I took off my headphones and while we huddled beneath the awning I asked how it was to be on site in such bad weather. He looked at me, said, "It sucks."

Monday, and when we get to the bus stop not only does the rain start up, but we both notice that someone has removed the bench that's been at the bus stop for twenty-something years.

The construction worker sighed deeply and perched instead on a narrow outcropping - no way it was more comfortable than standing, but hey, do what you gotta do. Unprompted, he said, "I hope they bring the damn bench back."

I nodded, agreed. "Yeah, it's been here forever," I said.

The next day, the bus was a couple minutes early and the construction worker barely made it.

I held the door for him. Said, unoriginally, "you made it."

Thursday I say something offhand about how the new bus schedule hasn't been too bad so far.

He was sitting on his outcropping and he looked up, surprised. "What new bus schedule?"

Apparently he hadn't known about it - he just thought the bus had been strangely early lately.

And then the other day, hiding from the rain again, waiting. 

He mentioned missing the bus the day before and having to Lyft to work.

I commiserated with him - who doesn't hate that? And I said I'd tried to get the driver to wait but that he wouldn't and instead had stopped to wait at Fulton in order to stay on schedule.

"Figures," said the construction worker. And he smiled.

Hard shell, cracked! Not bad work for an early morning chatterbox (that would be me.)