Bus 27

My family came for a visit a little while ago. Just thought I would share a picture of us preparing to board the 27 (the bus I took to and from Anthropologie) I had to give them the full experience which included the diverse ride to Market Street through the Tenderloin. I could write a small novel of my moments with the bus 27 folks.

Short Story 1: First Day on the Bus

As the crowd shuffles onto the bus, I notice a sweet little old lady. She's carrying a bag and doing her best to fend for herself. As she steps onto the bus, a loud man with his oxygen tank weasels his way in front of her as he demands,

"Wait your turn now, wait your turn."

The little old lady shrinks into a small opening in the line. One personal assault was not enough for the tenderloin folks.

The bus continues to fill with people while another bus rider, who is sitting in the disabled/senior section, yells,

"Your bag is touching me! Move it away from me!"

(Since when do claustrophobic people ride bus?) The little old lady glances at me and we exchange startled looks as she sweeps her bag up and into herself. I try to keep a straight face as to not clue in the other riders of my inexperience of riding the 27. It seems as though it's survival of the fittest.

The bus continues to flood with people. I don't think it is possible for anymore to fit! Soon enough the bus driver shuts his doors and the bus is ready to take off...Wait, what's that beeping? Why isn't the bus moving? I knew there were far too many people on board. We are like sardines and the man with the oxygen tank is breathing down my neck.

"There's too many people!"

the bus driver exclaims as the riders left on the street bang on the doors. And the crowd goes wild! "What's going on?! Let's go! Your bag is touching me! Move!"

Should I abandon ship? Is there going to be a riot? Oh no, it's the typical day on the 27.