Tuesday, March 12, 2024

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.

Sunday, February 11, 2024

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.

Thursday, February 08, 2024

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.)

Sunday, May 07, 2023

Bus Report #1091

 Time flies, what more to say about that? Suddenly it's spring in the city - longer days, a bit more sun, a different kind of energy in the air.

I can't say I've been up to anything too interesting but there have been myriad bus rides, meeting up with friends and strangers, and mostly reconnecting with the city we all love so much. 

Ran in to Jeff, a Potrero Hill commute buddy. Hadn't seen him in over a year. We caught up, he hugged me, and went our separate ways to work.

Damp and dark early mornings on the 33, almost falling asleep against the window as the bus climbs up to the top of Market Street and that infamous hairpin turn. 

A cold but bright sunny afternoon, riding the 38 all the way out to 40th, just to walk down to Balboa and then back towards home, admiring the sunset.

The hard stuff too. The number 7 bus down Market from the Haight, watching the chaos out the window - people smoking meth in bus shelters, shooting up into their bare thighs on the concrete. 

And then, a warm weekend morning-  an old friend grabs your arm as you are crossing the street- It's Carmen! You haven't seen her in years but its like no time has passed. Back on the sidewalk you hug and catch up and hug again. 

Spring in San Francisco, in all its wonder and all its heartbreak.


Tuesday, January 31, 2023

Bus Report #1090

 Saturday morning I rode the 44 to the 7, then hopped off to check on my garden plot.

The sun was shining, the garden was quiet and golden and beautiful, and my peas were ready for some urban farming micro harvesting, to the tune of a dozen or so fat, juicy, cold peapods. 

I'd forgotten to bring a bag but had a clean and unused handkerchief in my coat pocket (since I am very much my father's daughter) and I carefully tied the peas into a little bundle.

Three minutes to catch a 7 heading outbound so I masked up, put on my headphones and waited at the corner with a man and his very large dog.

I got into the bus through the back door, wanting to bypass the dog, and sat down.

A moment later, a familiar figure was standing in front of me, Michael!

We hugged and he said, "We saw you getting in but you didn't see us."

I joined him and Austin in the front of the bus and rode up to the Haight with them for some thrift shopping and a walk. It was utterly delightful - a beautifully clear day in the city, and we walked into Golden Gate Park and up JFK, blissfully car free.

Past the roller skaters living it up, past a new little free library, three Doggie Diner heads, and the oddly shuttered Conservatory of Flowers.

We parted ways before the De Young.

I realized as I walked home that it has been a while since I bumped into friends on Muni. It felt good. It felt normal.

 

Saturday, December 10, 2022

Bus Report #1089

 This week I watched a woman on the 22 Fillmore almost steal a man's wallet.

The woman was seated near the back door, spent most of the ride rolling blunts and counting a large wad of $50 bills. No joke, you know I wouldn't make up something that sounded so cliche.

I've seen her before; she has long fake eyelashes and wears old Ugg-style boots and tight leggings. Usually she sits by herself and stares out the window.
But not this time.

A man set his bag down by her feet and turned around. He should've kept his bag with him - ALWAYS KEEP YOUR BAGS WITH YOU - and keep your wits about you - but he looked a bit tired and probably thought the bag was safe on the floor between his feet.

The woman looked back, looked around. Her movements were familiar - like a cartoon burglar with a mask and striped shirt.

I caught her eyes and stared, because I knew what she was thinking.
She leaned forward and took her phone from her own open bag which was on the floor within reach of the man's bag. She fiddled with it a minute, then inched forward again and reached for the man's bag.
I coughed.
She looked around again. Sat up.
The man shifted a little but did not retrieve his bag.
She bent down again, farther this time, hands on his bag.
If she took anything I was ready to pitch a fit.
She unzipped the top an inch or so, then stopped when the man turned to adjust his grip on the pole. She sat back and returned to counting her cash, this time a new wad, of $100s.

He soon picked up his bag and went on his way.
Not knowing how close he came to losing his stuff.

If you see someone steal on Muni, please report it to the driver immediately. I was ready to do so, and it's the right thing to do.

Thursday, November 17, 2022

Bus Report #1088

 Crowded 22 Fillmore tonight.

At Mission,  a UPS driver slid into the seat beside me. He turned, said, "You look really familiar to me."

I said he probably recognized me from the bus or just from around, but he shook his head. "I used to live at 8th and Geary, we used to take the 38 together."

We were both masked so I didn't get a good look at his full face, but I believed him. He told me he moved to Cole Valley, but he couldn't get used to the constant noise of the N Judah.

"Hopefully you'll start tuning it out," I said.

"It's been almost two years, so, I don't know," he replied.

He asked me about various places along Clement and Geary and I brought him up to speed on changes in the neighborhood since he lived there. 

A woman sitting across from us leaned forward. "Excuse me," she said, "but I couldn't help but hear you talking about the Richmond District."

"Absolutely," I said. "Best neighborhood in town."

"Is the bar with the tango stuff still there?" she asked. "And that dim sum place on the corner?"

The three of us kept chatting, catching up on things. I described the upgrades at Hamburger Haven. The UPS guy asked about some of the shops, the woman snapped her fingers, said, "What about the ice cream place with all the toys?"

I was glad to tell her Toy Boat is still alive and well.

A few stops later she got ready to go. "Thanks for letting me butt in," she said.

"It was our pleasure," I told her.

When the UPS guy stood up he told me it was great to catch up and he'd see me around.

As he left I asked his name, and he told me, and I gave him mine. 

"See you soon," I said. "Have a great night."