Bus Report #1100

 This morning Clement Street smelled like rosemary and spices - someone preparing something savory and delicious. Sausage? Something Italian, maybe? Strangely, your first thought was matzah balls - fluffy ones spiked with rosemary, which is not a THING, unless maybe it is now? Maybe you just invented it?

At the donut shop, early morning Eric is sipping his coffee and eating a donut, and he sees you, and waves in a frantic and overly excited way. It's lovely, of course. You are two people of routine who move in opposite directions. You always say good morning when you see each other on the street, chat for a minute.

The weather, the holidays, your travels, his travels, his bad knee, coffee. You were acquaintances for almost a year before you exchanged names. You like it that way sometimes. Keeps an air of mystery.

Of course he is as much an Eric as your brother is, as your coworker - you can see the similarities in their collective mischievous smiles, their eyes that crinkle with laughter. So since he is your third or fourth Eric, he'll be early morning Eric from now on.

The street is so dark. You don't mind when it's quiet. Even the crossfit gym next to Schubert's is closed. The kids who open up Pixlcat café haven't arrived yet either.

There are some hot new Jang wheatpastes up on Dr. La's office and near Pasta Supply Co., you'll have to remember to tell E. about them later.

As you wait for the 33 you notice the moon today. A bright white horizontal crescent worthy of the Cheshire Cat. You try to snap a photo of it but it doesn't do it justice, so never mind.

Right on time the bus arrives and you step on, call a 'thank you' to the driver, and slide into your seat to sip your tea and listen to another crime podcast. 

Happy Friday, and have a good weekend!

Bus Report #1099

I love Muni, you know that. I love transit in general, but Muni is San Francisco to me, and it always will be.

I'm back in the office five days a week now, and it is strange how quickly you can get used to things again. Back to having regular drivers and regular passengers. Back to the rhythms of traffic.

The building that was under construction at Haight and Stanyan for so long is finally almost ready to welcome its tenants, and I think it is beautiful.

I greet J. at her bus stop each morning and instead of walking from the bus to my office alone, most days we walk together, as we work in the same building, on different floors.

For the first time in a long time, my mornings feel easy again. Mostly unstressed. As though I'm sliding into my day instead of barreling into it head on.

So, maybe I'm back here, to tell you more tales of my longest and most complicated relationship here in San Francisco. My on and off, love and hate but mostly love relationship with Muni.

And by extension with everyone on it, and with you, dear readers.

Are we good? We're good.

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.