I overheard a couple of interesting conversations today riding the bus. One on the way to work and one on the way home after my second shift. The stories are a little disjointed but they went something like this:
#5 Fulton -----> Downtown __ 8:50am - A lady in the front of the bus was talking to the driver, "... he died (short pause) he died at his own retirement party. That's why I got outta here... 22 years an I got out. I'm gonna get a shirt made that says, '22 years. I survived MUNI!' .... when I started it was different.. but now there's all these rules / schedules / / / it's pathetic..."
#22 Fillmore ---> Haight __ 8:20pm - An older man with a huge sac on his back, a large guitar case and a cowboy hat climbs onto the bus. He pays and asks the driver how late the bus runs. I could tell from his slight drawl and super tan skin that this man was just passing through, probably lives on the road. He sits and strikes a conversation with a young skater across from him, "Hi how are ya? - - - where ya goin? - - home? oh you work? (boy nods 'it's been a long day') - you work, I hitch hike... yeah I'm on my way to Haight St. whenever I pass through San Francisco I like to go to this place on Haight. A restaurant where there's an area in the back to sit and play my guitar... yeah when I was on the road an' you know who picked me up? Curly Carter Cash... yeah that's right Curly Carter Cash. She's the Daughter of Johnny Cash's wife. Said she saw me on the road an' told her husband to pull over an pick me up..."
The leathery faced man, half hidden by his hat and guitar case smiled ear to ear. He went on talking with the skater about all the places he's been and where he's going.