<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:53:16.789-07:00</updated><title type='text'>stepdown</title><subtitle type='html'>bus stories.theories.images.quotes.from near.far.and.in.between.

             submit your story here:                
              stepdownmagazine.com</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>84</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-6789481785339815566</id><published>2008-12-04T18:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T19:10:37.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year in the Making</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/STibczZi8lI/AAAAAAAAAPM/pRhxswmamlQ/s1600-h/three.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/STibczZi8lI/AAAAAAAAAPM/pRhxswmamlQ/s320/three.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276137882600534610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Yesterday marked one year of a project in the making. I have successfully attempted to collect at least one bus transfer per day for one whole year with December 3rd 2007 as the starting date. Since I use a fast pass I rely on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt; finding them around the city and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;contributions from other riders. So the first big leg of this project is complete. Please stay tuned ....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-6789481785339815566?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/6789481785339815566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=6789481785339815566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6789481785339815566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6789481785339815566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/12/blog-post.html' title='One Year in the Making'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/STibczZi8lI/AAAAAAAAAPM/pRhxswmamlQ/s72-c/three.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-530205991961137061</id><published>2008-12-04T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T18:57:55.857-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Familiar?</title><content type='html'>"Does running late count as exercise"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from a post it note&lt;br /&gt;- Jeff B. - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(When I first read this I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;subconsciously&lt;/span&gt; added 'running late &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for the bus&lt;/span&gt;' in the middle of this without realizing. Ha.)- LK.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-530205991961137061?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/530205991961137061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=530205991961137061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/530205991961137061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/530205991961137061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/12/familiar.html' title='Familiar?'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5839741964770241594</id><published>2008-12-04T18:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T18:49:55.599-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Found Something Else</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/STiU2zVlxBI/AAAAAAAAAPE/BqgFv8fuVBs/s1600-h/DSC04604.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/STiU2zVlxBI/AAAAAAAAAPE/BqgFv8fuVBs/s320/DSC04604.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276130632679146514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/STiUyFhpnfI/AAAAAAAAAO8/KjKG0lUes1U/s1600-h/DSC04603.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/STiUyFhpnfI/AAAAAAAAAO8/KjKG0lUes1U/s320/DSC04603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276130551662222834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking for transfers I came across this poor little, tiny bunny-doll face down, with one ear neatly tucked under its face. I didn't quite know how to handle this....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5839741964770241594?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5839741964770241594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5839741964770241594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5839741964770241594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5839741964770241594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/12/found-something-else.html' title='Found Something Else'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/STiU2zVlxBI/AAAAAAAAAPE/BqgFv8fuVBs/s72-c/DSC04604.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5729115875796853539</id><published>2008-12-01T14:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T14:29:09.759-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wrong Way</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have a fan in Portland Oregon who rides the bus. She comes across the most amazing people and her stories are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hilarious&lt;/span&gt;. Every once and a while I receive one of these story-gifts via text or voice mail. This text just came in, read on:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;"My bus driver just went the wrong way.&lt;br /&gt;We went in a circle. She doesn't know&lt;br /&gt;the route. Some old man is giving&lt;br /&gt;directions. Stupid."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5729115875796853539?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5729115875796853539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5729115875796853539' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5729115875796853539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5729115875796853539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/12/wrong-way.html' title='The Wrong Way'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-4799653659601474965</id><published>2008-11-24T16:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T19:35:12.528-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fried Chicken Wonderland</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SStpq557ThI/AAAAAAAAAO0/bfPtd77LdvM/s1600-h/popeyes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SStpq557ThI/AAAAAAAAAO0/bfPtd77LdvM/s320/popeyes.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272423974586502674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;OK how do I begin this...well... I can start by saying that I don't quite understand the logic in what I am about to relay. Here's what I saw;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Setting: Nov. 24th 2008, Approx; 1:55pm; Overcast, cool; 22 Fillmore toward Mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fairly relaxed atmosphere on the bus. The usual afternoon crowd. Some older folks in the front. A few kids cutting school in the back, one or two crazies having conversations with their hands , other people etc. I find a seat toward the back facing back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I smell fried chicken. Who has fried chicken?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Across from me and to the right this lady had with her a box of Popeye's take out. Ok fine.  She has lunch. Good. But then she proceeds to open her Happy-Popeye-Meal and eat as if she's at her dining room table. Smearing catchup on the chicken leg, crispy, greasy, chewing the fleshy carcass, fingers grabbing, mouth wide shoving the head of the bone in making sure she gets every last piece of cartilage, every vein. Ignores the biscuit and goes for the oher leg... or was it a wing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I know we get hungry and  I wouldn't want anyone to starve (starving being highly &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;probable) and it's not that seeing this horrifying display of fried chicken eating isn't disturbing,  but my &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;real &lt;/span&gt;question is, what is so &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;desireable&lt;/span&gt; about indulging in (probably) your favorite meal in a large moving vehicle, in front of twenty or so strangers smelling you, staring at you chew and chew and swallow and bite and knaw and suck pieces that get stuck between your teeth? Do you like that? Do you like that your innocent bite or two turned into a full on public eating performance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wondering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-4799653659601474965?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4799653659601474965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=4799653659601474965' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4799653659601474965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4799653659601474965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/11/fried-chicken-wonderland.html' title='Fried Chicken Wonderland'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SStpq557ThI/AAAAAAAAAO0/bfPtd77LdvM/s72-c/popeyes.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-7235412640271297715</id><published>2008-11-22T21:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T22:05:06.925-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ear Man on BART</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-4658d7d3407bc124" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4658d7d3407bc124%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330140130%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D27537B89CE6B091F2032651C911CFCE7C3D9C2B9.60826B578C2731B852E57753BC3035F3796F3442%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4658d7d3407bc124%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D7J6kzwpDFGxCePswJFHQRMOtS-g&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4658d7d3407bc124%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330140130%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D27537B89CE6B091F2032651C911CFCE7C3D9C2B9.60826B578C2731B852E57753BC3035F3796F3442%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4658d7d3407bc124%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D7J6kzwpDFGxCePswJFHQRMOtS-g&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't get part 1 to load...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-7235412640271297715?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=4658d7d3407bc124&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7235412640271297715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=7235412640271297715' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7235412640271297715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7235412640271297715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/11/ear-man-on-bart.html' title='Ear Man on BART'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-4145565219525681788</id><published>2008-11-22T21:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T21:29:09.578-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Horse Monsters.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SSjp8l4PnEI/AAAAAAAAAOs/pvw8fhoB1Rk/s1600-h/DSC04547.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SSjp8l4PnEI/AAAAAAAAAOs/pvw8fhoB1Rk/s320/DSC04547.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271720591006604354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SSjp4A-_hXI/AAAAAAAAAOk/XMVxBZ9CTmk/s1600-h/DSC04545.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SSjp4A-_hXI/AAAAAAAAAOk/XMVxBZ9CTmk/s320/DSC04545.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271720512383321458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SSjpxZSJbVI/AAAAAAAAAOc/az3FdzOYOdw/s1600-h/DSC04546.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SSjpxZSJbVI/AAAAAAAAAOc/az3FdzOYOdw/s320/DSC04546.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271720398647029074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;View of the horse monsters traveling on BART. I love them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-4145565219525681788?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4145565219525681788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=4145565219525681788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4145565219525681788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4145565219525681788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/11/horse-monsters.html' title='Horse Monsters.'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SSjp8l4PnEI/AAAAAAAAAOs/pvw8fhoB1Rk/s72-c/DSC04547.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-4581713673112893097</id><published>2008-11-13T08:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T09:05:31.768-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love/Hate Letter to Mr. Bus.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRxZGU3zKeI/AAAAAAAAAOU/R0j_XuXbzlI/s1600-h/wating.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRxZGU3zKeI/AAAAAAAAAOU/R0j_XuXbzlI/s320/wating.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268183629333473762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Dear Mr. Bus,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I have been holding a few things in lately and I feel the need to express them, because I sense that our realationship is unhealthy and we or one of us needs help. Ok, I'm frustrated and here's why: You're never there when I really need you. I am forced to chase after you all the time to get you to stop. You ignore me and leave me out in the cold at times when its crucial to have your company. This has become ongoing and difficult to deal with on a daily basis, but, I have to admit ... I'm dependent on you, even when you don't pay attention to me I keep coming back to you, needing you ... I'm falling apart because of this. It stresses me out to no end and there you are picking up on other men and women! But why do I love you so? When you do let me in, you give me the world. You help me to open my eyes to the colors of life outside and in. You show me your inner angels and demons. But unless something changes, this relationship is not going to work. I have things I need to get done and you taking your time, being choosy about when you will give me the time of day kills me. So if you don't see me one day then... well.... you'll know why. I've gone and gotten me a bike! Sorry I said that. Ok I'm sorry. I had to get this off my chest though. See you later (if you want). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Your Girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRxZAAF0RCI/AAAAAAAAAOM/9vjW0Yl5tEw/s1600-h/wait.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRxZAAF0RCI/AAAAAAAAAOM/9vjW0Yl5tEw/s320/wait.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268183520675906594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-4581713673112893097?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4581713673112893097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=4581713673112893097' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4581713673112893097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4581713673112893097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/11/lovehate-letter-to-mr-bus.html' title='Love/Hate Letter to Mr. Bus.'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRxZGU3zKeI/AAAAAAAAAOU/R0j_XuXbzlI/s72-c/wating.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-6218429941962931489</id><published>2008-11-12T21:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T21:35:07.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Conversations Caught.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&gt;I waited so long I began to wonder if this was really an actual bus stop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;+ Did you take out the bio-bag?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;* Yeah, it was all full you know with&lt;/span&gt; ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;+ uh huh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;* ... food and decompostables and just stuffed so much it was like ... an animal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The buses are comin' more often lately. I even see the 24 come regularly lately!&lt;br /&gt;=Wow, 'cause the 24 usually never comes. The 24 is like a ghost bus.&lt;br /&gt;-He he, you got that right!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-6218429941962931489?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/6218429941962931489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=6218429941962931489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6218429941962931489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6218429941962931489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/11/few-conversations-caught.html' title='A Few Conversations Caught.'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-314863198218721947</id><published>2008-11-09T18:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T18:42:59.975-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Tortures Me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SReflXmjSEI/AAAAAAAAAOE/-m83Au_Fvw8/s1600-h/DSC04315.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SReflXmjSEI/AAAAAAAAAOE/-m83Au_Fvw8/s320/DSC04315.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266853753572771906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRefgv_YzPI/AAAAAAAAAN8/QvugjiI_DGE/s1600-h/DSC04316.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRefgv_YzPI/AAAAAAAAAN8/QvugjiI_DGE/s320/DSC04316.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266853674220047602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRefbdrqP8I/AAAAAAAAAN0/ZAPToDBJl_0/s1600-h/DSC04318.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRefbdrqP8I/AAAAAAAAAN0/ZAPToDBJl_0/s320/DSC04318.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266853583406120898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRefWnPtHAI/AAAAAAAAANs/UsrE9rT3PSk/s1600-h/DSC04319.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRefWnPtHAI/AAAAAAAAANs/UsrE9rT3PSk/s320/DSC04319.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266853500073876482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;font-size:130%;" &gt;As bad as finding Muni transfers in a puddle, seeing multiples behind a locked gate. There's no way in - I tried....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-314863198218721947?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/314863198218721947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=314863198218721947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/314863198218721947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/314863198218721947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/11/this-tortures-me.html' title='This Tortures Me.'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SReflXmjSEI/AAAAAAAAAOE/-m83Au_Fvw8/s72-c/DSC04315.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-7727711885872907918</id><published>2008-11-09T17:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T20:01:40.314-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sticky Mess.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRecEzAIl2I/AAAAAAAAANk/vDLCSxYZr8Y/s1600-h/DSC04303.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRecEzAIl2I/AAAAAAAAANk/vDLCSxYZr8Y/s320/DSC04303.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266849895457265506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRebsORtAXI/AAAAAAAAANc/aBC9SaB5-8o/s1600-h/DSC04294.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRebsORtAXI/AAAAAAAAANc/aBC9SaB5-8o/s320/DSC04294.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266849473281982834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I caught the right bus today. I had just missed the 22. The next one came 6 minutes later. It pulled up, I stepped up and started walking towards the back. Suddenly a flashback came over me ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;`````&lt;&lt;&lt;`````` (flashback symbols) ```\\\\\&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;\\\\\\```\`\`\` (add sound effect)`\`\`\`\\ `````\`\&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;`\\`\`\`\\\\\\\\`````````\\\`\\`\`\`\`\`\`\``\`\\\\\\\`\``\````\`\`&lt;&lt;&lt;\`\`\&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\```````````\\\\\\\\&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;\\\\\\`\`\\`\`\`\`&lt;&lt; style="font-weight: bold;" size="4"&gt;"I smell pancakes!!"&lt;/span&gt; I thought. Right at that moment I nearly slipped and fell into a pool of maple syrup that covered the floor of the bus and had already rolled, dripped and smeared across the entire back section like an abstract drip painting. I didn't fall. Nobody fell, but we all could have easily been covered in a sticky slimy mess. Many comments were made and lots of sticky shoes came off of the bus that day. I let it go at the time and went about my business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok fast forward///////////(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;FF&lt;/span&gt; symbols - sound effect etc. as you wish) ///////////////&lt;br /&gt;////////////////////////.&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;////////&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;///////&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt; Me again, inside the back of the 22, Sunday, Nov. 9th approximately 11:30am. I am all of a sudden stepping the the same exact maple mess. Still sticky the drippy mess had hardened just enough. "This is awesome." I thought, "What are the chances that I would get on this same bus and come to find that in one week this mess had not even been attempted to be cleaned up! I have got to document this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though this is not very amusing still this event made me wonder how often these buses do get a good scrub down. ..... check it out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRebnnUQEvI/AAAAAAAAANU/6E08ptGiY-Y/s1600-h/DSC04298.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRebnnUQEvI/AAAAAAAAANU/6E08ptGiY-Y/s320/DSC04298.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266849394104210162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRebiOgCzAI/AAAAAAAAANM/cYqHQjqPAAY/s1600-h/DSC04300.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRebiOgCzAI/AAAAAAAAANM/cYqHQjqPAAY/s320/DSC04300.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266849301543439362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRebbpMoJ3I/AAAAAAAAANE/mjbyp96B5xM/s1600-h/DSC04301.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRebbpMoJ3I/AAAAAAAAANE/mjbyp96B5xM/s320/DSC04301.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266849188450674546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ca5cada63ff8c9e6" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dca5cada63ff8c9e6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330140130%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1AE26FF6CDB539D555ADCE7B5F794A71D593D067.42A4C0A6410A276FBCA9205DFDE94B7DD10EC07D%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dca5cada63ff8c9e6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D0nt_5BHo4CRxyR_V50AaFkDbHhc&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dca5cada63ff8c9e6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330140130%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1AE26FF6CDB539D555ADCE7B5F794A71D593D067.42A4C0A6410A276FBCA9205DFDE94B7DD10EC07D%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dca5cada63ff8c9e6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D0nt_5BHo4CRxyR_V50AaFkDbHhc&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home after 4 hours of work today I caught THE VERY SAME BUS, stickiness and all! What a day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-7727711885872907918?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=ca5cada63ff8c9e6&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7727711885872907918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=7727711885872907918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7727711885872907918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7727711885872907918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/11/sticky-mess.html' title='Sticky Mess.'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRecEzAIl2I/AAAAAAAAANk/vDLCSxYZr8Y/s72-c/DSC04303.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5685096244012513434</id><published>2008-11-05T18:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T18:10:44.409-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Obama SF. Celebrates.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRJR5_1oHtI/AAAAAAAAAMU/kmk-DyP8RQU/s1600-h/DSC04010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRJR5_1oHtI/AAAAAAAAAMU/kmk-DyP8RQU/s320/DSC04010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265360971180285650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRJRz4__35I/AAAAAAAAAMM/IDhJTH5Gcng/s1600-h/DSC04011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRJRz4__35I/AAAAAAAAAMM/IDhJTH5Gcng/s320/DSC04011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265360866265522066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRJRrqHLPoI/AAAAAAAAAME/27W3sVbaOp8/s1600-h/DSC04012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRJRrqHLPoI/AAAAAAAAAME/27W3sVbaOp8/s320/DSC04012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265360724830142082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5685096244012513434?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5685096244012513434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5685096244012513434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5685096244012513434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5685096244012513434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/11/obama-sf-celebrates.html' title='Obama SF. Celebrates.'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SRJR5_1oHtI/AAAAAAAAAMU/kmk-DyP8RQU/s72-c/DSC04010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-6021282122176124132</id><published>2008-11-03T19:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T20:15:04.738-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gordie and Me.</title><content type='html'>Today I met a fellow at the Misson and 16th St. bus stop waiting for the 22. He was older,  a little slow in speech and must have been from the streets by his dress and smell. He wore a smile despite the weather and told me his name was Gordie (spelling?). The most memorable moments of our conversation went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gordie - "Good people are good. Nature is good. The Birds ... feed 'em (gestures throwing seeds on the ground) and it comes back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me - "What comes back?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gordie - "All goodness comes back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're good, talking to me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm good, talking to you,          &lt;br /&gt;                                              and ... well ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                            I am ... well ...                             I don't really know what I am."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(we pause as he looks down as if trying to solve himself)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me - "I don't think anyone really knows what they are."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-6021282122176124132?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/6021282122176124132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=6021282122176124132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6021282122176124132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6021282122176124132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/11/gordie-and-me.html' title='Gordie and Me.'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-7223109456570983585</id><published>2008-10-31T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T18:20:58.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exiting: A Right of Passage.</title><content type='html'>(Of course I have these momentary &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ridiculous&lt;/span&gt; thoughts while riding a bus.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone before ever pondered over how many different exits there are available here on SF MUNI? It can be very confusing. Lets take a look shall we:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);font-size:180%;" &gt;one:&lt;/span&gt; On most buses (the all famous)&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;step down&lt;/span&gt; to open the back doors sets one free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;two:&lt;/span&gt; Step down, but you must push the bars in &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;front&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;of you to open back doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;three:&lt;/span&gt; On muni rail push the&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;side&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;bars to open doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;four:&lt;/span&gt; For exiting the 'green' bus &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;press&lt;/span&gt; your palm to the back door and it magically opens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;five: &lt;/span&gt;And on the street car who the hell ever knows how those doors are going to open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank god Bart doors open automatically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder people who don't ride often and tourists get so confused. Knowing how to get off a bus in SF is actually a very special piece of knowledge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-7223109456570983585?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7223109456570983585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=7223109456570983585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7223109456570983585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7223109456570983585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/10/right-of-passage.html' title='Exiting: A Right of Passage.'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5961450131637269681</id><published>2008-10-26T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T19:31:28.308-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Accident</title><content type='html'>Did anyone see the accident on Van Ness at Geary this afternoon around 1pm? I think it was a 77x or 74x. One of those special buses, I guess. Well it was traveling down Van Ness and smashed into a pole on the corner of Van Ness and Geary. I saw if from the 47 window. Don't know if anyone was hurt, perhaps it will be in the papers? Wish I had had my camra on me. Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5961450131637269681?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5961450131637269681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5961450131637269681' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5961450131637269681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5961450131637269681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/10/accident.html' title='Accident'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-7718334902667928933</id><published>2008-10-26T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T19:25:51.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where is the Special part II</title><content type='html'>I finally had an excuse to go to the SFMTA Customer Service building on Van Ness and Market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to get to the bottom of why the word 'Special' was taken out of the 'Late Night Special' all night bus transfer ticket. I had no idea what to expect but I thought that this place, of all places would be the place that would know.  Right when I walked in there sat a guard checking people in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How can I help you?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I would, um like to speak with someone about the transfers."&lt;br /&gt;"Transfers?"&lt;br /&gt;"Bus transfers."&lt;br /&gt;"Bus ... transfers?" He said it like he had no idea what a bus transfer was. I struggled a little, then went on, "Yes, see... I am an artist and I use these (I take out 2 late nights. One with the special and the other without) in my art and see here they took the special out of 'late night special'&lt;br /&gt;(He chuckled - amusingly or condescendingly - I couldn't tell) I would like to know who took out the special and why." At that moment I felt a burning sensation in my solar plexus. It occurred to me that I was talking to the wrong person. This guy had no clue what I was getting at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guard picked up the phone and dialed a number,  "Uh yes, we have someone here who has a bus - transfer - and wants to know why the late night is missing.... yes... why, uh there is no more late night..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No that's not it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uh huh.... ok.....(to me) are you using this transfer at night?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, but I-"&lt;br /&gt;"(Back into the phone) Uh huh... huh uh huh... ok ..." He hangs up the phone, "you need to call this number (311 scratched onto a scrap paper) they will help you. Have a nice day."&lt;br /&gt;"(shit) Thanks...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must re-think my strategy in getting to the bottom of this. To be continued...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-7718334902667928933?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7718334902667928933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=7718334902667928933' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7718334902667928933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7718334902667928933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/10/where-is-special-part-ii.html' title='Where is the Special part II'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-868265914969872321</id><published>2008-10-20T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T19:45:50.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Orange Crush" and Fried Chicken Breakfast</title><content type='html'>An sunny, autumn, Sunday morning sitting in the back of the bus a woman drinking orange Crush soda strikes a conversation with a handsome man, reading the paper, sitting right in front of her. She tells this man about how she woke up that morning at 6am, "ta get me some whsky" (swishing her "Crush" can - sly smile) and proceeds to inform him how to make the perfect fried chicken and gravy breakfast going into detail about how you want to leave the skin on cause that's the best part, how much butter to use and how you want to save the grease for the gravy. The man is very polite, rolling with the conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sits back observing life happening by out the window, drinking Crush, sun in face. I wondered at that moment what it would be like to be her. ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-868265914969872321?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/868265914969872321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=868265914969872321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/868265914969872321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/868265914969872321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/10/orange-crush-and-fried-chicken.html' title='&quot;Orange Crush&quot; and Fried Chicken Breakfast'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-4961235272233491886</id><published>2008-10-13T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T15:54:49.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Litter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SPPRn7lgZaI/AAAAAAAAAJE/SKrZrSjl2yY/s1600-h/DSC03956.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SPPRn7lgZaI/AAAAAAAAAJE/SKrZrSjl2yY/s320/DSC03956.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256775674011608482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SPPRi0V7QqI/AAAAAAAAAI8/RLhXwT5carY/s1600-h/DSC03920.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SPPRi0V7QqI/AAAAAAAAAI8/RLhXwT5carY/s320/DSC03920.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256775586167866018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-4961235272233491886?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4961235272233491886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=4961235272233491886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4961235272233491886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4961235272233491886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/10/please-litter.html' title='Please Litter'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SPPRn7lgZaI/AAAAAAAAAJE/SKrZrSjl2yY/s72-c/DSC03956.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5051922228499402743</id><published>2008-10-13T15:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T15:40:44.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back Door</title><content type='html'>No one really cares who you are. No one really pays attention to you when you are on the bus. People hardly lift a finger to help you in any way .... but ....  if that back door light shuts off before you are able to exit suddenly the whole bus is going to make sure you get off at your intended stop,&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;"BACK DOOOOORRRR!!!!!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5051922228499402743?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5051922228499402743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5051922228499402743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5051922228499402743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5051922228499402743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/10/back-door.html' title='Back Door'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5333637420890326169</id><published>2008-09-25T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T08:24:12.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Butt Rock Yeah!</title><content type='html'>I get on the 49 Van Ness way out at Union Street planning to take it all the way down to Mission and 18th. One of those boom box guys gets on. First of all the "boom box guy" phenomenon has always puzzled me. It's not the fact that one person has the gall to blast their big, fat boom box on the bus or the fact that they choose to carry the damn thing around with them everywhere they go. Its that there are multiple boom box guys. I have never seen the same boom box guy twice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, ok they're out there and one of them gets on the bus with me blasting butt rock from the back of the bus. Traveling oh so slowly down Van Ness, sun in my face, bombarded by the boom box guy switching from butt rock station #1, butt rock station #2 and slightly less butt rock (but will do) station #3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly no one had a problem with this Happening. I thought it was absolutely awesome and didn't want to leave the experience of being forcibly subjected to these very loud and obnoxious sounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally a good song came on. "Wish you Were Here" by Pink Floyd..... right .... as... he exits at 16th &amp;amp; Mission....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5333637420890326169?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5333637420890326169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5333637420890326169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5333637420890326169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5333637420890326169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/09/butt-rock-yeah.html' title='Butt Rock Yeah!'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-8399458409406793384</id><published>2008-09-01T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T21:36:04.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Never Know</title><content type='html'>Today I was on the meth bus..... Sometimes I get on the cute-boy-bus and sometimes its the meth bus....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heather, Pdx.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-8399458409406793384?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/8399458409406793384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=8399458409406793384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8399458409406793384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8399458409406793384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-never-know.html' title='You Never Know'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-7270087520763251458</id><published>2008-08-25T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T14:29:39.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drive My Bus</title><content type='html'>This afternoon as I boarded the 22 Fillmore at Union st. the driver asked me if I wanted to take over! "Drive my bus, I'm serious" - He went as far as to show me where all the pedals, buttons, gadgets were located and everything I needed to know. I was all ready to hop in, but at the last minute he backed down, "No, no it's fine I'm just having a bad hair day" patting his bald head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-7270087520763251458?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7270087520763251458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=7270087520763251458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7270087520763251458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7270087520763251458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/08/drive-my-bus.html' title='Drive My Bus'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-8255206384917116656</id><published>2008-08-13T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T18:11:52.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where is the SPECIAL???!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SKOGMtyxkxI/AAAAAAAAAH4/mQq-BYS0Uu8/s1600-h/latenightspecial.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SKOGMtyxkxI/AAAAAAAAAH4/mQq-BYS0Uu8/s320/latenightspecial.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234174744943760146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SKOGIFgaJKI/AAAAAAAAAHw/v5hRNQ0Ubbg/s1600-h/latenight__.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SKOGIFgaJKI/AAAAAAAAAHw/v5hRNQ0Ubbg/s320/latenight__.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234174665409832098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-8255206384917116656?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/8255206384917116656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=8255206384917116656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8255206384917116656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8255206384917116656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/08/where-is-special.html' title='Where is the SPECIAL???!?'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SKOGMtyxkxI/AAAAAAAAAH4/mQq-BYS0Uu8/s72-c/latenightspecial.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5660139267525321201</id><published>2008-08-13T10:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T10:35:42.964-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring Back the SPECIAL</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I found a full day and night transfer and noticed that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They took the SPECIAL out of "LATE NIGHT SPECIAL"!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's just not the same without the word special. Of course we know what 'late night' means. And 'special' refers to the gift of being able to take any bus or train all night long. What a special! Why has it been removed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no more late night special. Just "LATE NIGHT" and then a big fat blank.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5660139267525321201?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5660139267525321201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5660139267525321201' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5660139267525321201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5660139267525321201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/08/bring-back-special.html' title='Bring Back the SPECIAL'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-3735790706429985170</id><published>2008-07-10T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T20:05:33.108-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Onward and Upward</title><content type='html'>The other day I get off work and wait for the 22 @ Union and Fillmore. First, I have to pose a question (and I wondered this during my 35 minute wait for the bus): Why, is there no "next bus" located at this stop? The reason I ask this is because the Union and Fillmore stop is a at the bottom of a huge fuckin' hill. I should have called 311, found out how long that wait would be so I could have just started climbing the hill, but I waited. I was lazy and tired and hungry, anyway so.... here it comes around the corner looking like all buses look when they're way late. My big, fat nemesis. It's never the driver or the passengers or the day or anything else. It's just me and the bus doing the squinty-eye stare-down. And he approaches, so anxious for me to board. And all I feel is pisssed-offness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So at least I wont need to climb the dreaded hill of hills,&lt;/span&gt; I thought. The bus starts up the hill and then 1/2 way we all hear a silent pumping of the pedal. The bus stops. pump, pump, pump, - - pause - - we hang there for a second or two and then proceed to roll backwards!! "oh shit!" we hear from the driver. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You've got to be kidding me." I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, we go again onward and upward... the cables click and we resume 1/2 way then the same pump, pump, pump - - pause - - hang - - roll back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All passengers were looking  at each other in silence. What do we do? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three times. Up, down, up, down.  On the fourth try the bus finally made it and all passengers gave a nice round of applause to the driver who must have been sweating a bucket by that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just nearly made it without having to climb the hill. I felt so lucky. Then I turn my head and see that out the back window right behind us is another 22!!! We went through all that when we could have easily switched buses! ... I don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LK, SF.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-3735790706429985170?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/3735790706429985170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=3735790706429985170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3735790706429985170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3735790706429985170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/07/onward-and-upward.html' title='Onward and Upward'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-4556556671379079241</id><published>2008-07-10T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T19:26:34.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Smoking - - Jogging in Place</title><content type='html'>Hi Lauren, I have a bus story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I was on the 20 going home and its pretty warm here. And we pull up to a stop and there's this big huge black dude - -  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;smoking&lt;/span&gt; and - - &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;jogging&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;in place&lt;/span&gt; and he was about to get on the bus, but the driver told him to wait 'cause some guy in a rascal needed to get off. She had to lower the ramp n'stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he's &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;jogging in place&lt;/span&gt; - -  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;smoking&lt;/span&gt; - -  and then he tries to get on the bus and she told him he couldn't get on until he put his cigarette out and so he just stood there - -  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;smoking&lt;/span&gt;  - - and she said, "I'm &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; going to wait for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tries to get on again and she said, "you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;can't&lt;/span&gt; get on unless you put that out!" and so he said, "Go on then!" and he stayed and he lit a match all mean and lit up another cigarette as we drove away. It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was like,&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  fuck you bus I don't need you. I'm gonna stand here and smoke!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heather - PDX&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-4556556671379079241?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4556556671379079241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=4556556671379079241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4556556671379079241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4556556671379079241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/07/smoking-jogging-in-place.html' title='Smoking - - Jogging in Place'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-3403769658497872234</id><published>2008-07-09T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T20:21:51.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bus From Hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;i came across your blog while doing research for a film treatment i'm writing for a class in documentary screenwriting, naturally i chose to write about muni, because as your blog so eloquently brings to life; crazy shit happens on the san francisco municipal railway. reading through the entries brought back some hilarious/bizzare and disgusting things that i have witnessed on muni. naturally i'm compelled to share....&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;so this happened about 6 or 7 years ago, we were late to a movie at 1000 van ness so we hopped on the (47? 48? i cant remember the number of the one that runs straight up van ness) anyways, the bus is PACKED, it was rush hour, and that particular line always seems to be kinda dirty because it runs through civic center area, lower market etc. so we are in line to get on and this old homeless lady kinda stumbles down the front stairs, she has a pink "thank you" bag in one hand and is kinda dragging a decrepit walker behind her, as she walks by us to get off we smell THE MOST DISGUSTING SMELL IN THE ENTIRE WORLD...words cannot even express the magnitude of horrible. &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;assumming it was just a bad smelling semi homeless old woman we ignore it and board the bus. once we step up inside it becomes clear that something is terribly wrong, everyone on the bus is holding their noses, and wincing in disgust. two drunk bums drinking out of paper bags seated in the handicapped seats at the front of the bus are laughing and yelling to whoever will listen: "dont wanna sit there" (pointing to the first row of seats across from them) "lady straight up SHIT HERSELF!" clearly, they are the only 2 people on the bus amused by this, meanwhile, i followed their pointing and my eyes landed on a pile of yellow, runny diarhea sliding around in the row of seats (i'm gagging as i type this.)&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;the bus driver was clearly distraught, but before there was time for us to get off and wait for the next one, we were pulling away from the curb past city hall and up van ness. to make matters worse we were packed in the bus like sardines, people were burying their faces into strangers shoulders to avoid the smell and sight of the "mess."&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;"THIS IS THE BUS FROM HELL, next stop freddy kreugars gettin' on!" screamed the homeless man with no teeth in the front of the bus, still eyeing the shit, which had clearly not ruined his appetite for the olde english 40 he was enthusiastically drowning in. &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;i dont remember how we made it all the way to the movie theater without getting off, and strangley enough most of the other people on the bus endured the ride and didnt get off to wait for the next one...&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;it wouldnt surprise me if the driver completed the route that day...but i'll always wonder whos job it was to hose that bus down back at the depot. gross. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;-claire, san francisco &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-3403769658497872234?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/3403769658497872234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=3403769658497872234' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3403769658497872234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3403769658497872234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/07/bus-from-hell.html' title='Bus From Hell'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-4485974309208392498</id><published>2008-06-03T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T22:25:54.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SEYnQv2CKGI/AAAAAAAAAHg/UKW48DwV7v0/s1600-h/dontgo11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SEYnQv2CKGI/AAAAAAAAAHg/UKW48DwV7v0/s320/dontgo11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207893187775047778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Staring the bus down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-4485974309208392498?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4485974309208392498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=4485974309208392498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4485974309208392498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4485974309208392498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/06/staring-bus-down.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SEYnQv2CKGI/AAAAAAAAAHg/UKW48DwV7v0/s72-c/dontgo11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-4532068799913261032</id><published>2008-06-03T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T22:22:29.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SEYmcT6pelI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Gzq6StI_YNs/s1600-h/neon-transfers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SEYmcT6pelI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Gzq6StI_YNs/s320/neon-transfers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207892286925011538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-4532068799913261032?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4532068799913261032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=4532068799913261032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4532068799913261032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4532068799913261032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/06/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SEYmcT6pelI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Gzq6StI_YNs/s72-c/neon-transfers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-2596710967356203253</id><published>2008-05-28T21:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T22:14:05.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bus Transfers etc. etc.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SD46rsUBE3I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/nzoAIuDzBUQ/s1600-h/booty.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SD46rsUBE3I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/nzoAIuDzBUQ/s320/booty.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205662741590774642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I began scavenging for discarded bus transfers I have found a total of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- $23.50, (2 fives, 1 ten and 3 ones)&lt;br /&gt;- a rhinestone earing,&lt;br /&gt;- a crystal pendant,&lt;br /&gt;- numerous toothbrushes&lt;br /&gt;- a tube of toothpaste (? not with the brushes)&lt;br /&gt;- 2 Nintendo® (the original) video game controllers&lt;br /&gt;- vacuum&lt;br /&gt;- and a child's Spiderman bedtime slipper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This project has opened my eyes. I now have such strong confidence in being able to find just about anything (and more) in this concrete wonderland. All I have to do is look down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. I did not take the slipper home with me....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-2596710967356203253?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/2596710967356203253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=2596710967356203253' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2596710967356203253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2596710967356203253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/05/bus-transfers-etc-etc.html' title='Bus Transfers etc. etc.'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SD46rsUBE3I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/nzoAIuDzBUQ/s72-c/booty.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-9102916550137837864</id><published>2008-05-24T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T19:54:31.051-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting for the BART</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDjPysUBE2I/AAAAAAAAAHI/fAu4d4kF2Q4/s1600-h/DSC03211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDjPysUBE2I/AAAAAAAAAHI/fAu4d4kF2Q4/s320/DSC03211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204137839222133602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDjPt8UBE1I/AAAAAAAAAHA/fR6zzgxI2EA/s1600-h/DSC03214.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDjPt8UBE1I/AAAAAAAAAHA/fR6zzgxI2EA/s320/DSC03214.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204137757617754962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDjPosUBE0I/AAAAAAAAAG4/HSKgtplapvY/s1600-h/DSC03217.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDjPosUBE0I/AAAAAAAAAG4/HSKgtplapvY/s320/DSC03217.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204137667423441730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDjPi8UBEzI/AAAAAAAAAGw/lMyy7VrGYCI/s1600-h/DSC03218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDjPi8UBEzI/AAAAAAAAAGw/lMyy7VrGYCI/s320/DSC03218.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204137568639193906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDjPesUBEyI/AAAAAAAAAGo/BqntG5rOvS4/s1600-h/DSC03219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDjPesUBEyI/AAAAAAAAAGo/BqntG5rOvS4/s320/DSC03219.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204137495624749858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...Wow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-9102916550137837864?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/9102916550137837864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=9102916550137837864' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/9102916550137837864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/9102916550137837864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/05/candid-moments.html' title='Waiting for the BART'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDjPysUBE2I/AAAAAAAAAHI/fAu4d4kF2Q4/s72-c/DSC03211.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5313481643445587825</id><published>2008-05-22T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T21:47:36.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Overheard</title><content type='html'>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:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5 Fulton -----&gt; 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..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#22 Fillmore ---&gt; 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..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5313481643445587825?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5313481643445587825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5313481643445587825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5313481643445587825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5313481643445587825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/05/overheard.html' title='Overheard'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-7523515962618723292</id><published>2008-05-19T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T21:24:53.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Discarded Bus Tickets.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDJReS9bnEI/AAAAAAAAAGg/iijjeVFTbGA/s1600-h/tf-b.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDJReS9bnEI/AAAAAAAAAGg/iijjeVFTbGA/s320/tf-b.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202310100493769794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not had many bus stories lately, but have been adventuring the search for discarded bus transfers for my collage projects. This detail is&lt;br /&gt;part of a large piece that is, for the moment, living at John Sakkis's house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-7523515962618723292?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7523515962618723292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=7523515962618723292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7523515962618723292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7523515962618723292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/05/discarded-bus-tickets.html' title='Discarded Bus Tickets.'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SDJReS9bnEI/AAAAAAAAAGg/iijjeVFTbGA/s72-c/tf-b.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-972783764521587694</id><published>2008-04-29T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T12:53:12.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"The interpersonal relationships of people in big cities are characterized by a markedly greater emphasis on the use of the eyes than on that of the ears. This can be attributed chiefly to the institution of public conveyances. Before buses, railroads and streetcars became fully established during the nineteenth century people were never put in a position of having to stare at one another for minutes or hours on end without exchanging a word" -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- George Simmel,&lt;br /&gt;quoted in Walter Benjamin's, "On Some Motifs in Baudelaire"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-972783764521587694?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/972783764521587694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=972783764521587694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/972783764521587694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/972783764521587694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/04/interpersonal-relationships-of-people.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-87791174407529087</id><published>2008-04-20T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T21:43:21.108-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I saw three guys harmonizing at the bus stop yesterday. That's a new one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-87791174407529087?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/87791174407529087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=87791174407529087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/87791174407529087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/87791174407529087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-saw-three-guys-harmonizing-at-bus.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-7639329776728104273</id><published>2008-04-06T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T13:58:28.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Answer</title><content type='html'>extracted this quote from Wikipedia.org:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Muni's logo is a stylized, trademarked "worm" version of the word "MUNI."&lt;sup id="cite_ref-munilogo_3-0" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_Francisco_Municipal_Railway#cite_note-munilogo-3" title=""&gt;[4]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt; This logo was designed by San Francisco-based graphic designer &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Landor_Associates" title="Landor Associates"&gt;Walter Landor&lt;/a&gt; in the mid-1970s.'&lt;span title="This claim needs references to reliable sources since February 2008" style="white-space: nowrap;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-7639329776728104273?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7639329776728104273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=7639329776728104273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7639329776728104273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7639329776728104273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/04/answer.html' title='Answer'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5514671352374302489</id><published>2008-04-05T15:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T15:46:55.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Ponderings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;"I can't believe that the person who created the muni logo is not known. And that it's allowed on the muni train ... or anywhere. I can't believe it's in a commercial environment, because I feel its telling people to break free."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;"Yeah who thought of that? I felt that too - I thought why am I in art school when someone &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;else&lt;/span&gt; made up the muni logo."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5514671352374302489?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5514671352374302489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5514671352374302489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5514671352374302489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5514671352374302489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/04/random-ponderings.html' title='Random Ponderings'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-8830742302919692816</id><published>2008-03-23T22:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T22:14:58.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.metrolyrics.com/scroller/scroller.swf?lyricid=764080&amp;amp;border=2&amp;amp;bordert=10.6&amp;amp;bgfont=0x8A0000&amp;amp;bg=http://www.metrolyrics.com/scroller/bgpic/bluedisco.jpg&amp;amp;filter=0x202020&amp;amp;filtert=50&amp;amp;txt=0x7B7B7B&amp;amp;fontname=verdana&amp;amp;fontsize=14.4&amp;amp;speed=3.5" quality="high" bgcolor="#006666" width="180" height="210" name="scroll" align="middle" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - &lt;a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/the-faint-lyrics.html" title="The Faint Lyrics"&gt;The Faint Lyrics&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-8830742302919692816?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/8830742302919692816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=8830742302919692816' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8830742302919692816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8830742302919692816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/faint-lyrics.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-3387679684769378386</id><published>2008-03-18T21:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T21:38:50.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R-CYuxJhxHI/AAAAAAAAAGY/wjETYdMYVm8/s1600-h/munilogo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R-CYuxJhxHI/AAAAAAAAAGY/wjETYdMYVm8/s320/munilogo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179307500710773874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-3387679684769378386?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/3387679684769378386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=3387679684769378386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3387679684769378386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3387679684769378386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post_18.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R-CYuxJhxHI/AAAAAAAAAGY/wjETYdMYVm8/s72-c/munilogo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-151954907919508620</id><published>2008-03-18T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T15:46:06.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Know You Need a Peanut Right?</title><content type='html'>There were these two, old homeless guys on the bus all coghin' an hackin'.  I saw one guy was having a coughing fit and the other hits the coughing guy on his shoulder, nudges him, handing him something - and at first I couldn't see what it was - The coughing guy pushes it away but the dude kept nudging him with whatever was in his hand insisting the coughing guy take it. Finally I could see and it was... cocktail peanuts - cause you know when you're coughing you need cocktail peanuts right? So it kept going; one guy coughing and the other guy offering peanuts, coughing guy refusing - cough - hack - peanut? - no - coughcough- peanut? - no - etc... until finally the coughing guy said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Naw man naw I don't have no teeth!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well I mean I got like two - I only got like two teeth an so I can't eat peanuts"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other guy laughed and finally put the can of peanuts down (only after he had offered them&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to someone else on the bus, who didn't want them either).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that the logic here was awesome. ... Cause you know need peanuts when you're coughing. It's true that nothing goes down better when you're hacking up a lung - throat all nasty an' tore up - than a big, fat, salty peanut right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good times...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-151954907919508620?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/151954907919508620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=151954907919508620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/151954907919508620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/151954907919508620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/you-know-you-need-peanut-right.html' title='You Know You Need a Peanut Right?'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5796945489341480184</id><published>2008-03-18T15:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T15:24:38.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stitch in a Hurry</title><content type='html'>I was headed for the bus on the corner of 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and Burnside and I always miss it, as soon as I turn the corner I miss it, so I came tearing around the corner all fast and for once the bus wasn't there, but there was this really good looking guy standing there in a suit and briefcase and he looked just like Johnathan (you know who's my husband) and he had curly hair and a scarf, super big blue eyes, long pretty eyelashes and pale skin. After a minute or two he asked me what time it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stitch in a Hurry" which is the name of the sewing place at the bus stop has a bus schedule and a clock in the window (I guess because they were tired of people asking or something), so I just pointed to the clock. I could tell when he saw the clock he felt kind of dumb. I realized that I might have come off  like kind of a bitch just pointing like that and so I made a joke about how I always ask what time it is when there's a clock right there. Awkward silence..... then he says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"yeah I am going to a job interview and, but the last bus I got on I went to pay and I did that thing where I'm patting down my suit looking for my pass and then I remember 'oh yeah it's in my wallet' and so I went for my wallet and my wallet wasn't there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh no!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah so I have this job interview and I gotta take the bus so I'm hoping they'll have mercy on me and let me go, because the last one didn't and made me get off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I'll spot you if they don't let you on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, no it's okay I'll bet they let me on. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;It's&lt;/span&gt; just embarrassing because I look like the guy in the suit trying to hustle his way onto the bus."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right then I saw my bus was coming - I thought he was taking the 20 and asked, but he was taking the 19 - so I gave him $1.75 and told him just in case and that I hoped he gets the job. He looked so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;grateful&lt;/span&gt; and said 'Thank you' and then I got on the bus.  - Portland, OR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5796945489341480184?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5796945489341480184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5796945489341480184' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5796945489341480184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5796945489341480184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/stitch-in-hurry.html' title='Stitch in a Hurry'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-8138349853480682684</id><published>2008-03-18T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T15:01:31.797-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Smokin' Granpa</title><content type='html'>On the 5 heading from downtown towards the park: I get on at Van Ness and make my way to the back. It was a bright sunny day - middle of the afternoon - I could feel the breeze come in from the open windows and then I smelled something.... something like weed .... was someone smoking weed on the bus? I look up and see in the very back seat an older black man with white-as-snow hair and beard all fro'ed out, large 70's glasses, a cap with fire flames and (plain as day) a 1 inch thick golden pipe in his mouth. He clicked his lighter and went for another drag. Another man caught me witnessing this,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yeah! (chuckle chuckle) you smell it too. You want some? Me too. We should ask him (chuckle chuckle again)..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This is someone's grandpa here on the back of the 5 smoking out in broad daylight. Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I laughed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-8138349853480682684?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/8138349853480682684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=8138349853480682684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8138349853480682684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8138349853480682684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/smokin-granpa.html' title='Smokin&apos; Granpa'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-2514384047169386499</id><published>2008-03-15T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T21:00:14.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On the Way to Work</title><content type='html'>Two days I ago, as I was running out to catch the bus in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;I saw my neighbor and his girlfriend. I don't know him personally but&lt;br /&gt;I know he lives down the street from me.  I said hello to them since&lt;br /&gt;they were walking by just as I was leaving the house...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then remembered that I had forgotten some Netflix movies at home&lt;br /&gt;that needed to be returned so I went back to get them. I didn't take&lt;br /&gt;long, but it was long enough for them to walk around the corner. I was&lt;br /&gt;running late so I was walking at a faster than normal pace. When I&lt;br /&gt;turned around the corner I saw the guy by him self yelling "STOP!"...&lt;br /&gt;"STOP" "WHY WON'T YOU STOP!" really loud. I slowed down... I really&lt;br /&gt;didn't want to catch up to them. But the mailbox was on the same side&lt;br /&gt;of the street. I continued walking until I dropped the movies off. He&lt;br /&gt;was still in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed that the girl had crossed the street and was now waiting at&lt;br /&gt;the bus stop. He kept yelling "Why would you do this to me?". I really&lt;br /&gt;didn't want to deal with those two so I decided to keep walking. But&lt;br /&gt;just as I got closer he crossed the street to her rather abrupt,&lt;br /&gt;headed straight to her and pushed her up against the wall. He&lt;br /&gt;continued to push her until she fell to the ground. I remember&lt;br /&gt;thinking oh man why now. There was lots of yelling back and fourth&lt;br /&gt;mostly from him. There was lots of pushing too. I think at some point&lt;br /&gt;she started throwing punches at him too. They were so loud that people&lt;br /&gt;came out to see what was going on. One guy was on the phone calling&lt;br /&gt;the police. Another woman stopped her car and did the same. I didn't&lt;br /&gt;really know what to do. I wanted to keep going and ignore the thing&lt;br /&gt;but I couldn't bring myself to it. So what did I do? I went back.... I&lt;br /&gt;went back to try and talk some sense into them. I mean I've seen the&lt;br /&gt;guy around my block... He can't be more than a 18 or 19. And I knew&lt;br /&gt;that the last thing either one of those two wanted was to have the&lt;br /&gt;police involved. However he was much bigger than her and I for sure&lt;br /&gt;didn't want him beating her up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got close enough to them to talk to them. But I wasn't able to say&lt;br /&gt;much. He immediately started verbally attaching me and making threats&lt;br /&gt;to me as well. I noticed that she must have hit him rather hard as he&lt;br /&gt;was dripping blood from his head. "Mind Your Own Fucking Business" he&lt;br /&gt;said. All I wanted to do was warn them that the Police was coming and&lt;br /&gt;they best be their way. I walked back away from them still keeping an&lt;br /&gt;eye to make sure nothing serious started. The man on the phone with&lt;br /&gt;the police said to me "Don't worry about them. The police is on their&lt;br /&gt;way. I'll make sure nothing happens and that she is safe"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt a lot better after talking to him. I wasn't able to stick&lt;br /&gt;around much longer as I was already late to work, and my bus had&lt;br /&gt;arrived. I am very proud of myself for not walking away tho. It sure&lt;br /&gt;got me thinking about my experience with the bullies beating up the&lt;br /&gt;nerd. I do still I had not walked away then and I had helped him, I&lt;br /&gt;think I'm slowly outgrowing my fear of conflict. I do hope those two&lt;br /&gt;find a way to work things out within their selves. Violence is never&lt;br /&gt;the answer but sometimes it is the only way we know how to deal with&lt;br /&gt;the situation. I keep thinking about how I will deal with the&lt;br /&gt;situation next time I run into him. Part of me wants to just keep&lt;br /&gt;walking but the other wants to let him know that I can be a friend if&lt;br /&gt;he or she need someone to talk to.  - Anonymous - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-2514384047169386499?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/2514384047169386499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=2514384047169386499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2514384047169386499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2514384047169386499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/on-way-to-work.html' title='On the Way to Work'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-7623592046138990584</id><published>2008-03-15T19:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T19:59:58.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R9yM2xJhxGI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/G4TAnniEEeo/s1600-h/busdays.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R9yM2xJhxGI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/G4TAnniEEeo/s320/busdays.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178168544103351394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-7623592046138990584?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7623592046138990584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=7623592046138990584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7623592046138990584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7623592046138990584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/cables-iii.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R9yM2xJhxGI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/G4TAnniEEeo/s72-c/busdays.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-2836626504319837518</id><published>2008-03-15T19:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T19:58:10.035-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anything But my ipod</title><content type='html'>Relaying this story from memory:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman - 30 something - kickboxer - lawyer -  lives in SF -  takes the bus to work everyday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One morning while waiting for the bus a large man sat next to her.... pause... he turned,  pulled a knife on her and told her to hand over her wallet. Scared, she fumbled around and tossed it to him. Then he asked her for the ipod she had on her. Scared again she started to take her ipod off - then in that moment she snapped -  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;no... not my ipod - anything but my ipod - &lt;/span&gt;She stopped "What are you doing?" She said to him, "What would your mother think if she knew you were doing this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something in what she said triggered the man. Right there he fell apart, put the knife down and started weeping. He gave her the wallet back and asked her for a hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"no way you just tried to rob me! Go home!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-2836626504319837518?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/2836626504319837518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=2836626504319837518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2836626504319837518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2836626504319837518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/anything-but-my-ipod.html' title='Anything But my ipod'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-985507035493967825</id><published>2008-03-15T19:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T20:00:20.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R9yGPxJhxFI/AAAAAAAAAGI/PiqMYz1lEfc/s1600-h/cables.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R9yGPxJhxFI/AAAAAAAAAGI/PiqMYz1lEfc/s320/cables.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178161277018686546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-985507035493967825?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/985507035493967825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=985507035493967825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/985507035493967825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/985507035493967825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R9yGPxJhxFI/AAAAAAAAAGI/PiqMYz1lEfc/s72-c/cables.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-8614616421497536909</id><published>2008-03-15T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T20:02:22.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange Man</title><content type='html'>My grandmother got on the bus and (this was in Guatemala too) at the next stop this man wearing a suit and hat got onto the bus and sat down.  He had blood on his forehead. Someone inquired, "are you okay?"  He said he was fine. There was a strange air about this man. More people saw the blood and asked him if he was okay... "yes" he continued. But people became concerned as the blood seemed to thicken.  Soon everybody started questioning him,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you okay?"&lt;br /&gt;"You okay?"&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want to stop to take care of your head?"&lt;br /&gt;"Do you need some medical attention?"&lt;br /&gt;"Do you need to get to a hospital?"&lt;br /&gt;"you need a doctor"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This, back-and-forth went on for a while. The man was avoiding everybody, then started reacting violently to everyone's concern.  One person finally had it, got up and took the hat off the strange man's head to see what was wrong with him.  There - on his head - was a severed ear with earrings in it! ! !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-8614616421497536909?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/8614616421497536909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=8614616421497536909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8614616421497536909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8614616421497536909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/this-was-in-guatemala-too.html' title='Strange Man'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-1100759475925213021</id><published>2008-03-15T18:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T20:00:40.752-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R9x_CxJhxEI/AAAAAAAAAGA/jpAUWIu1Jh8/s1600-h/cable2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R9x_CxJhxEI/AAAAAAAAAGA/jpAUWIu1Jh8/s320/cable2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178153357098992706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-1100759475925213021?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/1100759475925213021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=1100759475925213021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/1100759475925213021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/1100759475925213021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/cables.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R9x_CxJhxEI/AAAAAAAAAGA/jpAUWIu1Jh8/s72-c/cable2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-2062241835962443983</id><published>2008-03-15T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T20:03:05.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hijackers</title><content type='html'>So this you have not heard... So when I was about 9 ... well ... let's go back ... my grandfather... he was a very sweet man ... very liked, everybody liked everything about him, except he had a problem. He was an alcoholic and um you know everybody kind of knew about that. And he also uh, he had a child with this other woman/lover/not my grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night my grandfather got in a fight with the other woman - his lover. She got upset and took the child to the other town over. They had both been drinking.  He was also very upset,  and so caught a bus to the next town to go after her. (this is in Guatemala by the way).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he's on the bus, drunk, 1/2 way to the town and the bus got hijacked. The hijackers started taking peoples' money. One of them attacked a women. My grandfather recognized the hijackers. He stood up to them, punched the guy who was attacking the woman, then said, "I know you guys you are from my same town. why are you doing this? These people are also from your town."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People there said my grandfather was the only one who stood up to the guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hijackers took him out of the bus and shot him 3 times. I was 9 years old.  I remember that night I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dreamt&lt;/span&gt; about my grandfather. The next day they told me that he had died.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-2062241835962443983?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/2062241835962443983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=2062241835962443983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2062241835962443983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2062241835962443983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/this-is-in-guatemala-by-way.html' title='Hijackers'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-3099061928454203523</id><published>2008-03-10T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T21:07:26.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Things</title><content type='html'>This was my voicemail today -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi Lauren it's me. Two things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A big seventies pimp got on the bus today. he had on a purple suit with a big fur coat and a red fedora. I've seen him before but today he was all cracked out and smelled real bad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um also...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes fat, disgusting, old men talk shit to me like, "your hot" and stuff like that. What am I gonna do with that Lauren? What am I gonna do?" - Heather - Portland, OR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-3099061928454203523?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/3099061928454203523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=3099061928454203523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3099061928454203523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3099061928454203523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/two-things.html' title='Two Things'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5699698825716192541</id><published>2008-03-02T10:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T10:32:05.088-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ashamed</title><content type='html'>"So I'm really ashamed --- but --- I --- grew up in LA without a car. I grew up on the RATD - the rapid transit bus of LA, from age infancy to 18 and I was so traumatized by the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;horror&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;infrequency &lt;/span&gt;and the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;un-dependability&lt;/span&gt; of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ever &lt;/span&gt;getting &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;anywhere&lt;/span&gt; in less than two hours in LA that I bought a car. I couldn't do it. ... I bought a car when I was 16 and I have never gone without a car since. I just can't handle it... I do the bus when I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; to ... " - Jana - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5699698825716192541?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5699698825716192541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5699698825716192541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5699698825716192541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5699698825716192541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/03/ashamed.html' title='Ashamed'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5446840262140832900</id><published>2008-02-28T23:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T23:13:47.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Our Credit</title><content type='html'>Speaking to a woman from Boston the other day about East Coast vs. West Coast. She said,  "I realize the difference between the East and West Coast the most &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;when I'm on the bus&lt;/span&gt;, because everyone is so polite - it's not that way back home. Everyone gets up to give you a seat and people will actually talk to you. People out here are more open and friendly."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5446840262140832900?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5446840262140832900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5446840262140832900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5446840262140832900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5446840262140832900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/02/to-our-credit.html' title='To Our Credit'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-9014828744622182945</id><published>2008-02-27T21:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T21:55:42.958-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty Face</title><content type='html'>"I was on the bus and these two bummy guys were sitting diagonal behind me when I got on the bus and sat down and one of them looked at me and says, 'Look at that girl who just got on the bus she has a really pretty face' and the other one looks sat me said, 'Ehh,  I don't like short hair. I like long hair.' And I thought it was funny, because I could hear them, but they were acting like I couldn't." - Heather - Portland, OR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-9014828744622182945?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/9014828744622182945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=9014828744622182945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/9014828744622182945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/9014828744622182945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/02/pretty-face.html' title='Pretty Face'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-7089017286304132578</id><published>2008-02-27T21:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T21:55:25.205-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What is a Dork?</title><content type='html'>"I just rode the bus and there was this guy on the bus who was a dork. I wanted to tell you what a dork he was because he was this white, young guy meditating on the bus all serious in lotus position and everything. In his Prana pants. In his fleece vest and little hippy hat on his head. Ughh! I hated him so much! And the whole time he was meditating I was thinking&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;; dork, dork dork &lt;/span&gt;to mess him up so... I just wanted to let you know what I saw this morning cause it was awesome" - Heather - Portland, OR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-7089017286304132578?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7089017286304132578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=7089017286304132578' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7089017286304132578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7089017286304132578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-is-dork.html' title='What is a Dork?'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-6925870206270146335</id><published>2008-02-26T21:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T22:24:59.724-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Itch</title><content type='html'>Saturday night, I'm all dressed up to go to a party on the East Bay. Catch the Pittsburg Bay Point train and a window seat.  A very nicely dressed boy comes on - forget which station -  and sits next to me. He has a Gucci shopping bag, black suit and shiny shoes, but he's quite young from what I can tell. The Gucciboy takes out a small pamphlet and starts reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt an itch on my leg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I bent over to scratch it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Gucci boy saw me, thought something dropped lunged forward to pick "it" up for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Something dropped??"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh! no, no I just all of a sudden had an itch on my leg - I uh. ... scratched it...."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh I see. ... Isn't that weird - when you all of a sudden get an itch somewhere. It comes out of nowhere. Where do those itches come from?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes!! I know!!!", I said, "Where do they come from? But you know what I figured out? That if I have an itch and I make myself not scratch it then it eventually goes away."&lt;br /&gt;"No!! REALLY!!!"&lt;br /&gt;"YES!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The Gucci boy decided it was time for him to share with me his pamphlet - it was a book on Zen Buddhism -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to show you a quote I just read - it's really interesting!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The train enters an underground tunnel and all sound muffles out. A skater boy comes in from another car with his skate board in one hand and a fat book in another. Skaterboy stands at the doors and opens the book. Gucciboy finds the quote and starts reading. The train shakes and rattles. Skaterboy's voice is challenged by the noise of the train as he recites from his book, the Bible. With passion and angst he proclaims God Almighty!! Then slaps the book shut and exits just as the train calms to the next stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gucci boy and I look to each other in silence...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wonder if he was doing that for us or for himself", I said softly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gucciboy read on in his pamphlet something about reality not really being real, tells me this is his stop and to have a nice night. He takes his Gucci gift bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This dark mysterious young man vanished as quickly as he came. And I wondered if he was just a figment of my imagination.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-6925870206270146335?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/6925870206270146335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=6925870206270146335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6925870206270146335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6925870206270146335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/02/itch.html' title='The Itch'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-2322614959590251368</id><published>2008-02-26T21:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T21:40:00.782-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pastries on the 5</title><content type='html'>Today on the 5 Fulton from downtown heading to Fillmore I'm sitting in the back listening to my ipod. The bus is pretty full. Everyone in the back is hooked up to an ipod. One boy comes on with a plate of some kind of puffy pastries (and his ipod). He sits next to a girl who asks him what they are. "I go to the culinary school" he says with a huge smile and offers her a pastry from his plate. She accepts it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a strange exchange. Two strangers. A plate of pastries. He gives her one. He's smiling and proud and bright. The older man (no ipod) to the other side of the girl looks on to what is happening eye-ing the pastries - looks like he wants one, but doesn't ask. She carefully places her pastry item carefully in a plastic Safeway bag (for later?), says "thank you" and leaves. The boy cook puts his ipod back in his ears and is still smiling. He smiled at me too, but didn't offer me a pastry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-2322614959590251368?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/2322614959590251368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=2322614959590251368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2322614959590251368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2322614959590251368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/02/pastries-on-5.html' title='Pastries on the 5'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-437539043776314811</id><published>2008-02-11T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T23:21:33.453-08:00</updated><title type='text'>in honor of LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R7FAQKByPMI/AAAAAAAAAF4/_HMrCRu-5BA/s1600-h/love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R7FAQKByPMI/AAAAAAAAAF4/_HMrCRu-5BA/s320/love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165980893884595394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Caught this image on the way to work one day (the 6 or the 71 going down Haight St.) It just fits right into the SF morning rush doesn't it? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stories on &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;V&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;-SIDEBURNS-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She takes the same train home every evening from the city and every time she got on there was this boy that got on the same train as her. He was really mysterious and good-looking. He had side burns and long hair. She would scope him out from a distance and named him “Sideburns”. She would say to her friends “I saw Sideburns on BART today”. Finally she felt she had to say something to him so she used his hair as an excuse “oh you have really beautiful hair”. He said that he was growing it out for ‘Locks for Love’ where you can give your hair to make wigs for cancer patients. He seemed perfect. He lived near by, was in his mid twenties, had a stable job etc. So they went out on a few dates. Then she comes to find out that he is Mormon. That became an issue since she was not Mormon. They still are friends and see each other from time to time but nothing romantic ever came into play." - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-BUS SCREW-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;"My friend “Angela” tells me a story about her friend, a woman, who was dressed in casual business attire riding the bus downtown. She's standing, holding onto the rail above her, and lost in thought until she realizes someone is bumping her body from behind, hard. It had been going on for a little while, but she didn't notice because, when she got on the bus it had been crowded. However, she now realized the bus was not crowded at all. She looked around, and saw a man in business clothes rubbing up against her from behind. She froze, panicked--but quietly-- and got off at the next stop, and found a cum stain on her dress!” - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;-THE EYE-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"I lived in the Sunset and I went to San Francisco State. In the morning a lot of people took the same bus: 29 Sunset. The 29 man…. Anyway almost every time I got on the bus in the morning I saw this really cute boy he was tall, fair skinned, had big bright crystal blue eyes, and beautiful black dred locks. He seemed a little mysterious you know wore all black and never talked to anyone. We noticed each other for quite a while and gave each other “the eye”, but nothing else was ever exchanged. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was in a Chinese Medicine class at the time and our assignment for the week was to practice one week of silence. We were not supposed to say anything to anyone. We could only have a sign that said “I am observing one week of silence” but other than doing home-work we weren’t supposed to do anything in our spare time like read, watch TV or movies, write, draw etc. We were only to observe our lives through silence. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So one morning during this silent week I got on the 29 and I sat down. The boy was there. He came over and sat down next to me. He seemed a little nervous…. pause… then finally, “Hi”. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I nodded a hello. Then he asked,  &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;“So what’s your name?” I was nervous and showed him my sign,  “I am observing one week of silence” The irony was too much. The very first time this guy has the guts to say something to me I can’t say anything back! What are the odds!?" - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;-NIETZSCHE, CRUSHES &amp;amp; CITATIONS- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Aged 21, the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen in close proximity was Danielle Jediny. We had a course on Nietzsche together, but never talked, just looked. and when that course ended so did my hopes of seeing Danielle. A year later, I'm sitting on one of the sideway seats of the M train coming from sf state. She sees me and walks to stand next to me in the middle of the train, the pivot the 2 cars swing upon. I think she's going to talk to me, so I get excited, but then the Muni police come walking up behind her looking for tickets and passes. She doesn't have one. So she's stopped looking at me, standing in the mid-section of the train with 2 officers hovering over her, writing her a citation. And while this is happening, while she's getting out her ID,  I get up and start chit-chatting with her. So basically I'm hitting on her and somehow we make plans and I get her number or something and we get together for a very brief but lovely little fling.&lt;/span&gt;" - Sf, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-EASY COME EASY GO- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"About 7 years ago I dropped out of college temporarily to take a trip up to Canada to visit a man I thought was my "soul mate" (yeah right). I took a Greyhound bus from Oakland to Calgary, Alberta. In Oakland I met a French guy named Gael who was touring parts of the US and Canada. We sat next to one another and talked nonstop from Oakland to Vancouver, which is where he got off. We spoke of our dreams, our views on life and love. We joked about traveling together and me skipping Calgary altogether. He kissed me as we said goodbye in Vancouver and when he returned to Paris, he wrote a song about me and sent me the demo tape. The guy in Calgary turned out to be an asshole and broke my heart. I should've stayed on the bus with Gael!" - Oakland, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-437539043776314811?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/437539043776314811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=437539043776314811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/437539043776314811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/437539043776314811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/02/in-honor-of-love-love-love-love-love.html' title='in honor of LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R7FAQKByPMI/AAAAAAAAAF4/_HMrCRu-5BA/s72-c/love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5331213278505149978</id><published>2008-01-28T21:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T21:46:17.661-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Above and beyond - this is theoretical transportation! Don't try to use it if you're actually trying to get anywhere on time (under two hours).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Interestingly enough, people actually seem to ACCEPT this state." - Anonymous - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5331213278505149978?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5331213278505149978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5331213278505149978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5331213278505149978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5331213278505149978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/01/above-and-beyond-this-is-theoretical.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-4050543096199194556</id><published>2008-01-25T08:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T08:44:15.128-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Elderly Mishap</title><content type='html'>This is a conversation with a young woman who asked for some 'Bus Wisdom' advice from a bus support group. It went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(W= Woman, G = Group)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W - "I need advice"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G - “you need advice”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W - "I need help"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G - “Okay, we’re all here”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W - "I don’t know if anyone here rides the L sometimes. 'the L train' Well for some yanno I think there’s some ethnic tensions yanno and that’s a very serious situation but for some reason, not once, not twice but THREE times I’ve had to break up senior citizens getting into it on the bus and I just don’t know what to do with them. I’m sorry but I’m not the kind of person who can stand by and watch a 70 year old woman try an clock a like a 60 year old guy. I find it upsetting. So if anyone has some inside words of wisdom – I know I should step back and just let them duke it out on the L and  --- - it happens a lot on Saturdays. …"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G - “Are they fighting over seats? what are they fighting over?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W - “They’re fighting over, ‘you didn’t move over an inch for that woman to get off. You’re horrible you’re innately evil’ and yelling at them. It gets a little ugly”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G - “And do you just break it up or do you swoop in with some words of wisdom?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W - “I say you’re too old to be doing this”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G - “And does this stress you, out? Or do you enjoy it a little bit?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W - “I enjoy it.. I, I”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G - “Okay then, I think… you know what I think? I think you’re doing a damn good job.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Anonymous - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-4050543096199194556?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4050543096199194556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=4050543096199194556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4050543096199194556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4050543096199194556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/01/another-elderly-mishap.html' title='Another Elderly Mishap'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-3854533373818406086</id><published>2008-01-20T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T08:46:51.742-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Send me your bus transfers.&lt;br /&gt;Need more bus transfers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;P.O. Box 170027&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;SF. CA. 94117&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-3854533373818406086?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/3854533373818406086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=3854533373818406086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3854533373818406086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3854533373818406086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/01/send-me-your-bus-transfers.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-2917142534889307638</id><published>2008-01-09T10:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T10:23:57.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R4URKH88PgI/AAAAAAAAAFw/9nhkadSHAuw/s1600-h/DSC02802.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R4URKH88PgI/AAAAAAAAAFw/9nhkadSHAuw/s320/DSC02802.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153544214226419202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-2917142534889307638?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/2917142534889307638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=2917142534889307638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2917142534889307638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/2917142534889307638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R4URKH88PgI/AAAAAAAAAFw/9nhkadSHAuw/s72-c/DSC02802.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-132956055276626049</id><published>2008-01-03T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T21:48:54.529-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOL (little old ladies)</title><content type='html'>"A little old lady rang the bell to get off at the next stop. She was tiny and looked as if she wouldn't harm a fly. We were on the #5. She got up and said in a very loud, stern voice, 'gettin' off, gettin' off, gettin' off - ' A very tall man was getting on at the same time. Towering over her, he thought he was in her way so he started apologizing profusely. She turned sharply to the man and said, 'I wasn't talkin' to YOU  - get outta MY WAY! Gettin' off!' She practically pushed the man over and she exited the bus." - L.Kohne - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-132956055276626049?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/132956055276626049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=132956055276626049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/132956055276626049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/132956055276626049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2008/01/lol-little-old-ladies.html' title='LOL (little old ladies)'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-435525261226573856</id><published>2007-12-27T19:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T19:54:23.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>COMIC: Banana Manifesto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R3RyZawLwFI/AAAAAAAAAFU/CzLpzrwjl7Q/s1600-h/bananaM-title.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R3RyZawLwFI/AAAAAAAAAFU/CzLpzrwjl7Q/s320/bananaM-title.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148866054995034194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R3RyUqwLwEI/AAAAAAAAAFM/17urG5Cy36o/s1600-h/bananaM1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R3RyUqwLwEI/AAAAAAAAAFM/17urG5Cy36o/s320/bananaM1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148865973390655554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R3RyPawLwDI/AAAAAAAAAFE/pw9MYApBBdc/s1600-h/bananaM2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R3RyPawLwDI/AAAAAAAAAFE/pw9MYApBBdc/s320/bananaM2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148865883196342322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Comic, by Lauren Kohne, based on a true story told by -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Emma and Vince Kingston - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-435525261226573856?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/435525261226573856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=435525261226573856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/435525261226573856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/435525261226573856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/banana-manifesto.html' title='COMIC: Banana Manifesto'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R3RyZawLwFI/AAAAAAAAAFU/CzLpzrwjl7Q/s72-c/bananaM-title.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-6779882452938081947</id><published>2007-12-26T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T23:09:05.112-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Smells</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;"If I get this job, I will &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dred&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; taking the #27 Bus to "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Magnon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;" and Market...it's really Cyril &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Magnin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;, but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Magnon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; is pretty descriptive.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;People on this bus stink.  It smells "homeless" (you know, that homeless smell).  This morning smelled like dirty rag and ketchup.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Other smells reminded me of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;RTD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; days in LA, like:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;eau&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;-urine-bus smell and gin-on-the-breath bus smell.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;If people have high sensitivities to taste (like those with Geographic Tongue) then I must have a sensitivity to smell.  For example, my body acted pretty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;adversely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; to the smell of vomit on the street so much so that I almost felt like vomiting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;And god knows, I surely wouldn't want to vomit on the #27.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;(But it might add to the wonderful smells nevertheless)!" - Anonymous - SF, CA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I got on the bus I was sitting in the back and it smells terrible and it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; not just like someone farted – it smelled like someone took a shit on the bus it was that rank. And everyone was looking around thinking and saying 'what the hell is that??' No one could figure it out – and there was this guy you might have seen him around he hangs out in the lower &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Haight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;, some homeless skinny Hispanic guy and he’s really animated. He’s really funny, nice – he’s been around for years always dancing and silly. So he gets up to get off the bus and he’s carrying this plastic bag and all of a sudden I notice this bag was dripping with shit! Wet disgusting, covered wet… and everyone sees it’s him and they say 'oh it’s you! it’s &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;disgusting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;! Get off the bus!' and he goes “who? What? Me?” and starts doing this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;pantomime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; gesturing all over the place – I don’t know if he was drunk or what but he was going to get off the bus but now that he had all this attention he stayed on the bus. And everyone is saying 'NO YOU GET OFF THE BUS!' he has no idea that his bag is full of shit and everyone on the bus is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;hysterical&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; and he is eating it up!" - Aaron &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Novik&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; - SF, CA. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-6779882452938081947?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/6779882452938081947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=6779882452938081947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6779882452938081947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6779882452938081947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/smells.html' title='Smells'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-3605138089048748303</id><published>2007-12-26T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T22:58:54.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions</title><content type='html'>"We lived a block away from the bus stop in Queens NY and we only had one car in the family – early 1960’s – and if mom had the car occasionally my dad would take the bus to work. And it was early in the morning. We had a junior high school close by so all these kids would ride the public transit bus to get to school and my dad would be waiting at the stop and all these buses would go by because there were so many kids the bus was too full, jam packed with kids and of course they would pass him by – pass him by one after another. ... So one day my dad was called for jury duty and he went it and in the interview they mention that the case was one that had to do with the public transit so the lawyer asked my dad 'well do you have any discrepancies or any negative feelings about the transit authority?' and he said sternly, 'Oh yes- I – do!'” – Karen - P-Hill, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He had two hits of e and they brought the dogs on the bus so he took the e.  Boy what a bus ride that  must have been..." - Anonymous - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am really ashamed but I grew up in LA without a car. I grew up on the RATD Rapid Transit but from infancy to age 18 and I was so traumatized by the horror and the infrequency and undependability of ever getting anywhere in less than 2 hrs in LA that I bought a car. I couldn’t do it. I bought a car when I was 16 and I have never gone without a car since. I just can’t handle it. I do the bus only when I have to." - Jana - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sometimes when I'm on the bus and there are loud idiots all around me I fantasize that like I jump up in the air and start spinning around and at this point everyone thinks I'm an angel or a magician or something and they shut up and just stare at me for the duration of the ride." John Sakkis - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-3605138089048748303?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/3605138089048748303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=3605138089048748303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3605138089048748303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3605138089048748303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/confessions.html' title='Confessions'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-8119827507161431614</id><published>2007-12-20T22:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T22:27:49.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R2ta06wLv6I/AAAAAAAAAD8/r1Wy7gs5Lbw/s1600-h/BAU.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R2ta06wLv6I/AAAAAAAAAD8/r1Wy7gs5Lbw/s320/BAU.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146306864371974050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning on the 21 Hayes going downtown I saw from across the bus a guy all tatted up, cigarette behind his ear, baggy jeans, jiving to his friend about the laws of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. "An' one time he had HELLA jelly I mean HELLLLA jelly - - - " He went on to describe how too little jelly is not good either because the peanut butter gets stuck in your throat. He was eating a p&amp;amp;j on the bus as he was telling these stories and so obviously knew a lot about the science of a p&amp;amp;j.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I caught the whole conversation. So much I could have learned! - Lauren - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-8119827507161431614?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/8119827507161431614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=8119827507161431614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8119827507161431614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8119827507161431614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/this-morning-on-21-hayes-going-downtown.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R2ta06wLv6I/AAAAAAAAAD8/r1Wy7gs5Lbw/s72-c/BAU.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-8170189962016939991</id><published>2007-12-20T22:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T22:18:21.162-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Murphy's Bus Law</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;It was me and a man waiting for the 22 Fillmore. He lit a cigarette and paused. Then I heard him mumbling behind me. ...."rrrr, can't believe it! I lit a cigarette and the bus didn't come!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "oh just wait another few seconds - it's coming".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we hear it squeak from around the corner, "See," I said, "of course the bus comes when you light a cigarette, it's the law after all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiled. - Anonymous - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-8170189962016939991?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/8170189962016939991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=8170189962016939991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8170189962016939991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8170189962016939991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/murphys-bus-law.html' title='Murphy&apos;s Bus Law'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-6280657096860882752</id><published>2007-12-19T00:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T00:44:19.162-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Religion, Voodoo &amp; Time Travel</title><content type='html'>"Characters: Hispanic woman (W), White man (M), Homeless Dude (HD)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;M:&lt;/span&gt; I don't really want to barge into your conversation, but do you go to church?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;W:&lt;/span&gt; No, but I am spiritual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;M:&lt;/span&gt; Then, you should go to Lakewood Church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;W:&lt;/span&gt; Oh, yeah, I watch their sermons on television!&lt;br /&gt;She gets up and sits next to the guy.&lt;br /&gt;I love his sermons. He makes it easy to understand and to apply. It helps a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Homeless dude behind me enters the conversation.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HD:&lt;/span&gt; It doesn't help the homeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The two in front of me ignore him.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;M:&lt;/span&gt; Yes, I think his sermons help a lot too. It dissipates all the negativity and makes you feel better about yourself. It helps you get a better life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;W: &lt;/span&gt;More people should listen to him. There wouldn't be so much misery in the world if they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HD:&lt;/span&gt; Yeah, I wish I had a better life. I wish I had a Mercedes too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(M &amp;amp; W ignore HD.)" - Francois Luong - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Coming home from work, I'm about to get on the 15 heading downtown from bay view. The construction on 3rd street makes it a miserably rocky ride. The jackhammers, and the clunky thump of a bus rattling over the ugly terrain is unpleasant. I get on, and the driver, a big hairy holdover from the 60's maybe, is in a heated conversation with a passenger in the nearest passenger seat. The discussion isn't actually heated, it's friendly, but passionate, with both men looking frequently at one another while the driver drives. They are talking about God. The driver is a Jew and the passenger, a Christian, and they are talking loudly about God with reverence, respect, and something like love. They say He is like this, or He is like that, and I silently remember what He was like when we used to hang. Then in me something stirs, a fondness, a memory of one once close to me, but one I haven't seen (or believed in ) in ages. But the whole bus, I notice is sunny, bright and it feels cozy and safe. Nestled in the tone of their conversation, I tried to remember God." - Ken Lo - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A guy tried to put a hex on me on the bus in Chicago..." - Lucas - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Muni / Sunday / Carnival / Double Dutch – On the 22 in the back of the bus with Lauren and Leslie. About 16th and Mission he gets on; a homeless man with two large bags. He has trouble getting a seat and makes his way to the back. He sits one seat up to the left of us. He turns to me and begins to talk about genocide in Africa. He expresses concern and is confused why people would do this to other people. He asks me if I heard the news. I ask him if he’s speaking of Rwanda. He says yes and tells me he just heard it on the news earlier today. The genocide in Rwanda happened 13 years ago. I wonder for a moment if we have gone back in time. For a moment I believe we have. Our stop comes. I tell him to take care. He says 'may the force be with you' I answer, 'and also with you.'” - David Patrelli - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “the bus is a myth” - Anonymous - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"around the holidays in 1999 I wrote 50 thank you cards and gave them to the bus drivers on all the lines I rode most often. I got a lot of confused looking faces. They were probably wondering what the hell I was giving them” - Anonymous - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"#5 Fulton. When I ride the bus I am either face down in a book or playing sudoku so that I don’t’ have to deal with anyone. So this time I was playing sudoku and I just looked up and looked over and I see this Nun sitting in the front which is just always suprizing to see a Nun out in the real world. And then I had almost sat next to this guy and I was greatful I didn’t because he was 'the obnoxious guy on the cell phone' really loud and then finally he gets off but I  mean they’re just brodcasting their personal business – so I am back playing sudoku and then a cell phone goes off and it’s the most obnoxious ring you could ever hear and it doesn’t stop for some reason the person is just not getting their phone. And I look up and it was the Nun’s cell phone and she was just so flustered by it – she couldn’t find it. And then she finally found it and was having this normal person converstation about things she’s doing. It s like a reality check like, ‘oh yeah Nun’s are real people too'”  - Andi Clegg - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-6280657096860882752?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/6280657096860882752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=6280657096860882752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6280657096860882752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6280657096860882752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/religion-voodoo-time-travel.html' title='Religion, Voodoo &amp; Time Travel'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5589347572799329064</id><published>2007-12-19T00:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T00:22:34.697-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Next Stop</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R2jUiqwLv5I/AAAAAAAAAD0/iKOcEKmbswo/s1600-h/1973808707_9814fa5071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R2jUiqwLv5I/AAAAAAAAAD0/iKOcEKmbswo/s320/1973808707_9814fa5071.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145596266327818130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Francois Luong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5589347572799329064?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5589347572799329064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5589347572799329064' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5589347572799329064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5589347572799329064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/next-stop.html' title='Next Stop'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R2jUiqwLv5I/AAAAAAAAAD0/iKOcEKmbswo/s72-c/1973808707_9814fa5071.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-1509201386029281910</id><published>2007-12-13T23:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T23:36:31.429-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids cont...</title><content type='html'>"As kids when we got on the bus we used to add up the number on the transfer and it they added up to 21 it was considered a 'lucky transfer'." - Logan Mein - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Working in the Presidio last year, I would pick up the 43 at Haight and Masonic. Waiting for the bus one morning, I sit down on the bench next to a young, straw-haired boy, maybe 3 years old, and a round, pleasant woman who appears to be his daytime caretaker. The kid is learning colors. The bus is brown. The scaffolding is green. The car is yellow. He has been showing signs of a musical gift for drumming. He is slapping out rhythms on his knees with an uncanny sense of timing. The kid goes to some kind of school for musically gifted children, somewhere on the 43 route. He is on his way to school. We have been waiting for the bus for a long time. I am late for work. The little boy is going to be late for school. He is still pointing out things he likes, and naming them. This kid doesn't have a care in the world - more so than most kids. Finally, the bus arrives. We are happy. The kid blurts out, "That's domino!" I stare in amazement at this little boy who has just uttered the coolest expression of joy I've ever heard, who has suddenly presented to be the hippest drummer since Art Blakey. I look at the boy's caretaker, but she just shrugs. "I don't know where he came up with that, he just started saying it one day." I am picturing musically gifted children sitting around the playground eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and playing dominoes, betting the unwanted items their parents packed them for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly, I went to the wrong school." - Jeffrey Blumenthal - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-1509201386029281910?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/1509201386029281910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=1509201386029281910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/1509201386029281910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/1509201386029281910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/kids-cont.html' title='Kids cont...'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-843934124483929945</id><published>2007-12-13T23:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T23:27:26.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids</title><content type='html'>"I was on the N-Judah and a man comes on with his young son (maybe 6 years old) who sits next to me. They must have had a long day, because the son was so tired he starts nodding off, soon forgets where he is and his head falls to rest on my shoulder. I thought, 'how cute this little boy is sleeping on me and he doesn’t even know who I am'” - Anonymous - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When I was 13 I went across the states and I took the bus, the greyhound. I didn’t have any money. No food. By the third day I was so hungry. Then this person sits next to me and starts eatin’ something. So many people eat on the freakin’ bus. And I’m like (drooling sound), but I didn’t say anything." - Gamin Mader -  SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When I was 14 I ran away from home. I was on the bus in Richmond and I was scared the bus driver was going to notice me so I snuck way down in my seat and everybody started to get off the bus cause it was getting late. I just stayed in my seat. We were riding for like 30 – 40 minutes. He knew I was there though ‘cause then he says ‘look you’re gonna have to get off the bus’ and I said ‘ok I will’ and he said ‘but I, I’ll be back around’. He knew I was not supposed to be there. So he drops me off way out at the end of the line and he said, ‘just go around this corner, wait there’.  He pointed at a bus stop I could see the bus stop he said ‘ ill be back in 20 minutes’ I had to climb a fence to get there and I was there for around ½ hr. I was scared. I thought ‘oh I’m gonna get taken off into slavery or somethin’ yanno? ‘Someone is gonna steal me’. So I’m sittin’ here and he finally drives back around in the bus to start another shift. He had a cup of coffee and a donut for me. I got on and just went back to the BART." - Gamin Mader - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-843934124483929945?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/843934124483929945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=843934124483929945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/843934124483929945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/843934124483929945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/kids.html' title='Kids'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-1275639189706421252</id><published>2007-12-11T14:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T14:25:09.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Shit gotta catch that bus"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R18Nb1SPaHI/AAAAAAAAACA/dgoA6-aUDg0/s1600-h/run.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R18Nb1SPaHI/AAAAAAAAACA/dgoA6-aUDg0/s320/run.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142844071291611250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Another time Brian was going home from work. He saw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;his bus but he was so far away&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; 'shit gotta catch that bus' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so he booked and ran as fast as he could. It turned out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that his co- workers were watching him. They were blown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;away and started cheering him on. He caught the bus. His&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;co-workers then called him to congratulate him on his&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;victory." -  Heather Speck - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-1275639189706421252?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/1275639189706421252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=1275639189706421252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/1275639189706421252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/1275639189706421252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/shit-gotta-catch-that-bus.html' title='&quot;Shit gotta catch that bus&quot;'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R18Nb1SPaHI/AAAAAAAAACA/dgoA6-aUDg0/s72-c/run.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-8390813948562294319</id><published>2007-12-10T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T00:41:47.881-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Rocking Lady"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1-d81SPaQI/AAAAAAAAADI/zJJnFvI1k7o/s1600-h/rocking+lady.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1-d81SPaQI/AAAAAAAAADI/zJJnFvI1k7o/s320/rocking+lady.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143002967901694210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rocking Lady the bus stop on the corner of Divis and Haight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3b03c5b6914eb573" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3b03c5b6914eb573%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330140130%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7B650988B153439D6AECF6364E51C8150D5252F5.50DF9A939C433007767CC2D0835D4339F3C3E128%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3b03c5b6914eb573%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dnw_Kw2eLH-vAfNk1thYhMJnR_F4&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3b03c5b6914eb573%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330140130%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7B650988B153439D6AECF6364E51C8150D5252F5.50DF9A939C433007767CC2D0835D4339F3C3E128%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3b03c5b6914eb573%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dnw_Kw2eLH-vAfNk1thYhMJnR_F4&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smokes multiple cigarettes at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-49c11ee308a5374c" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D49c11ee308a5374c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330140130%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E7EF99D5EFE586FBFB4F5D4C84F328ECE0A997.3AEA736664C872A05A94EA53E69F4C4C9D81E6CF%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D49c11ee308a5374c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D6pm2e56GSjk5ahymzsxG85PsD7w&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D49c11ee308a5374c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330140130%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E7EF99D5EFE586FBFB4F5D4C84F328ECE0A997.3AEA736664C872A05A94EA53E69F4C4C9D81E6CF%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D49c11ee308a5374c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D6pm2e56GSjk5ahymzsxG85PsD7w&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was infatuated with her. She wears a sweatshirt that says &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Whatever'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-8390813948562294319?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=3b03c5b6914eb573&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=49c11ee308a5374c&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/8390813948562294319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=8390813948562294319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8390813948562294319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/8390813948562294319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/rocking-lady.html' title='&quot;Rocking Lady&quot;'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1-d81SPaQI/AAAAAAAAADI/zJJnFvI1k7o/s72-c/rocking+lady.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-3279386528733187793</id><published>2007-12-10T18:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:15:20.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>COMIC: "No Change"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R133VVSPaEI/AAAAAAAAABs/u10O_KQzKJE/s1600-h/NoChange1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R133VVSPaEI/AAAAAAAAABs/u10O_KQzKJE/s320/NoChange1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142538295389939778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R133KlSPaDI/AAAAAAAAABk/Z6EOy-57iLs/s1600-h/NoChange2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R133KlSPaDI/AAAAAAAAABk/Z6EOy-57iLs/s320/NoChange2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142538110706346034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R133FFSPaCI/AAAAAAAAABc/gaBirGscbMo/s1600-h/NoChange3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R133FFSPaCI/AAAAAAAAABc/gaBirGscbMo/s320/NoChange3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142538016217065506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comic, by Lauren Kohne, inspired by a true story - Gina Callos - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-3279386528733187793?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/3279386528733187793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=3279386528733187793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3279386528733187793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3279386528733187793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/no-change.html' title='COMIC: &quot;No Change&quot;'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R133VVSPaEI/AAAAAAAAABs/u10O_KQzKJE/s72-c/NoChange1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-4778667794802242124</id><published>2007-12-10T17:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:02:13.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote</title><content type='html'>"I ran all the way to the bus stop and waited an eternity." - Anonymous - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-4778667794802242124?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4778667794802242124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=4778667794802242124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4778667794802242124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/4778667794802242124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-ran-all-way-to-bus-stop-and-waited.html' title='Quote'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-1395819663199770901</id><published>2007-12-10T17:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T17:34:12.199-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ASK DRIVER DAN  "Nirvana"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;* Driver Dan offers advice and social observations regarding bus etiquette and the social ramifications of bad bus behavior.  He prides himself on his keen observational skills, as he has been a bus driver for over 20 years. Dan knows what's up with the bus. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Dear Driver Dan,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ride the bus to work every morning. I often stop at Starbucks to get a Frappacino for breakfast. Sometimes a cute barista named Jason talks to me and makes me late. I totally have to run to catch the bus. Some days the driver stops and lets me on, other times he just keeps going.  Why? Why is he so inconsistent?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;Leigh Ann - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Leigh Ann,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think I don't know who you are?! I know who you are. Every morning you pull this bullshit with me.  "Please Mr. Driver, please I'm late for work!"  Well ya know what?  I'm not late for work.  Give me a break.  I drag my happy ass out of bed every morning to come pick you up.  You could at least have the decency to get to your stop on time. Coffee?  I like coffee.  It's 7am, everyone gettin’ on the freakin’ bus has coffee.  Does anyone think to get one for me? No!  You all get that fancy SF pure, organic blah blah stuff too.  None of that burnt up 7-Eleven swill for Leigh Ann &amp;amp; Company. The stuff tastes like styrofoam and cinders but I drink it every morning.  Gets me goin’. I don't like the fancy coffee anyway.  That mocha, latte junk is a little too sweet for my taste. But I will say if it were offered to me I'd drink it.  It's the gesture Leigh Ann, the thought. Yanno, I do think about opening the bus doors for you.  I really do.  But just the thought, the thought of opening those doors and hearing that whiny little voice of yours, "Oh my God!  Thank you sooooo much! If I'm late one more time my boss is totally going to kill me!"  Blah, blah, blah...  Sometimes I just can't do it.  I can’t let you on and here’s why:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nirvana has been attained on the bus. I long for these trips. No amount of weed has ever zoned me like these trips. It’s a special moment. Everyone, even the kids just spaced out.  Eyes glazed, bodies bobbing around with the movement of the bus. Starin straight ahead. You can even hit a big old bump in the road and it don't matter. Perfect silence. Pure peace.  No crazy people, no bad smells, kids aren't screamin'. Perfect harmony. And then here you come running around the corner.  Red in the face, mouth hangin'&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; open, arms all akimbo! You always appear on one of those days. I do not want you on my bus, plain and simple.  You will steal away my one chance at perfection; Nirvana. I will not attain this for days, weeks even. Maybe never. No way buddy.  And it's not just me.  The other people don't want you here either.  I can read it on their faces.  They stare blankly at you then turn away.  Slow like. That's how I know.  They all turn their heads slowly and settle right back into the zone. It's nothing personal.  I'm sure you are a nice person.  You're just not right for this trip.  Catch the next one. It's got a bunch of teenagers nattering on about some party last night.  And that old lady that piddles her Depends right there sittin’ next to ya. That's your trip.  That's where you belong.  Knock on my door some other time kid. Maybe then you’ll be ready.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-1395819663199770901?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/1395819663199770901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=1395819663199770901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/1395819663199770901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/1395819663199770901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/ask-driver-dan-nirvana.html' title='ASK DRIVER DAN  &quot;Nirvana&quot;'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-6243213304498528638</id><published>2007-12-10T17:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T17:21:30.145-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"The 24 Divisadero Escape"</title><content type='html'>"The other day I was on the 24 and all of a sudden everyone looked toward the back of the bus  - I had my headphones on so I didn’t know really what was going on - I thought “I guess there’s something going on in the back of the bus”. There were these kids in baggy clothes messing around in the back. There was a huge slam – I didn’t see anything – I don’t know what happened. Then one kid goes to the second exit in the back and was waiting to get off. All of a sudden the bus driver, a stern looking pissed off guy, got out of his chair, marched over to the kid, got right in the kid’s face, was telling him off and pointing at him, just ready to kick his ass and the kid was just standing there indifferent to what the driver was threatening – The driver finally sat down, but the kid wanted to get off and the driver wasn’t letting him off the bus I didn’t know what they were going to do with each other. So the kid breaks the emergency exit box for the back door and tried to push out of the door and he can’t get out still – so he goes to the window and opens the emergency exit on the window, jumps out and runs away." - Crystal Gallant - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-6243213304498528638?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/6243213304498528638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=6243213304498528638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6243213304498528638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6243213304498528638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/24-divisadero-escape.html' title='&quot;The 24 Divisadero Escape&quot;'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-6459359432953315659</id><published>2007-12-10T17:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:03:39.802-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Mormons on Muni"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R13jVFSPZ-I/AAAAAAAAAA8/vgyxqKEaHMQ/s1600-h/Mormons+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R13jVFSPZ-I/AAAAAAAAAA8/vgyxqKEaHMQ/s320/Mormons+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142516300862416866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom Lawless - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-6459359432953315659?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/6459359432953315659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=6459359432953315659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6459359432953315659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/6459359432953315659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/mormons-on-muni-by-tom-lawless.html' title='&quot;Mormons on Muni&quot;'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R13jVFSPZ-I/AAAAAAAAAA8/vgyxqKEaHMQ/s72-c/Mormons+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5827409375365603999</id><published>2007-12-04T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T00:14:05.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Running</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1ULyFSPZ9I/AAAAAAAAAAw/NCE0lhHc5J8/s1600-h/RR.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1ULyFSPZ9I/AAAAAAAAAAw/NCE0lhHc5J8/s320/RR.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140027504753338322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Back in the day we used to skateboard behind the buses." - Logan Mein. SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To Run or Not to Run&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see the bus just slightly ahead. In this moment there is a window of time in the possibility of catching it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are Risks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-    Running downhill&lt;br /&gt;-    Running through crowds of people&lt;br /&gt;-    Time constraints&lt;br /&gt;-    Carrying heavy bags or breakable items&lt;br /&gt;-    Wearing high heel shoes or a non-secure shoe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course the biggest risk is getting hit by a car while trying to catch the bus. No matter how inconvenient it is to have to wait for the next one, remember, catching the bus is really not important enough to kill yourself over. But that’s not to say that catching the bus isn’t important, because who really knows when the next one will show. So if the coast is clear and you are well equipped – run dammit RUN!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5827409375365603999?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5827409375365603999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5827409375365603999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5827409375365603999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5827409375365603999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/running.html' title='Running'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1ULyFSPZ9I/AAAAAAAAAAw/NCE0lhHc5J8/s72-c/RR.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5303186444607900693</id><published>2007-12-03T23:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:05:14.869-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Running the Bus Down"</title><content type='html'>"This happened when I was a young bureaucrat at the environmental protection agency. After the earthquake in San Francisco our offices moved to Mission St and 8th. I had to get from south of Market to some downtown federal office building, because I was teaching a class to all these guys from the pacific islands on how to do wetlands protection. So I was wearing a suit (which was very unusual for me), heels, nylons and a narrow skirt and blazer. I only had 15 minutes to get across town. So there I am out South of Market waiting for this bus and it comes and he stops but he doesn’t stop all the way and he looks at me and he doesn’t open the door. And then he drives away, so I start going after him. I’m sprinting to catch up in my outfit, my skirt, he keeps going and I’m banging on the door. He’s just shaking his head. So having been an athlete I hiked up my skirt and started chasing this busman (in my heels) I chased him to I think 4 or 5 stops and I actually got there before he got to the stop and same thing I would just bang on the door and the guy would not open the door. So finally when the bus got to Market Street. I think I literally ran all the way from Bryant to Market – and I was starting to really sweat and my ‘put together’ look was not so put together anymore he finally had to open the door because other people were getting on and I just looked at him and I said “I’m taking your number right now” and he just said “you’re a fucking white cunt” and everyone was looking at me as if I was being agro whereas I had to chase this bus 5 or 6 blocks just in order to be allowed to get on it and then the guy called me a ‘fucking white cunt’. I only had another 4 or 5 blocks to go to get into the federal building and when I got off the bus the driver swore at me again! Running the bus down in my lady like outfit." Lisa SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Another time I was waiting at the same bus stop on Bryant St and this bus driver came by and he looked at me and he didn’t stop and I was also wearing a business outfit and I got so angry and all this rage came out from my last bus driver experience that I kicked the window (door) and I actually cracked the bus door window glass by kicking it and the guy gave me this look like I was a complete psycho and then I looked up at the bus stop to see there was a sign that said the buses were going to temporarily not going to stop there so he was actually not being a jerk. I had this huge guilt, shame experience that I had destroyed public property, and appeared like a psycho for no good reason whatsoever." Lisa - SF, CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5303186444607900693?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5303186444607900693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5303186444607900693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5303186444607900693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5303186444607900693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/running-bus-down.html' title='&quot;Running the Bus Down&quot;'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-5882468711658034998</id><published>2007-12-03T23:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:09:35.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Brian &amp; the Bus"</title><content type='html'>"I stayed the night at Brian’s house. In the morning I usually drove my car home while he took the bus to work. So I got in my car and drove off, but got stuck at the stoplight at this huge 4-way intersection at Geary and Park Presidio. Then Brian appeared out of nowhere. He saw the bus across this huge intersection and had to catch it so he ran - against all odds – right into the face of traffic, diagonally across the intersection to catch the bus. He was like an animal. He shot across yelling “hay HEEYYY!!” It looked like an impossible thing to do but he caught it." - Heather Speck - SF. CA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-5882468711658034998?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/5882468711658034998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=5882468711658034998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5882468711658034998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/5882468711658034998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/brian-bus-comic-inspired-by-this-story.html' title='&quot;Brian &amp; the Bus&quot;'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-860324344988081882</id><published>2007-12-03T23:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:11:20.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>COMIC: "Brian &amp; the Bus"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1UEtlSPZ8I/AAAAAAAAAAo/Outiiwd8YJI/s1600-h/brian1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1UEtlSPZ8I/AAAAAAAAAAo/Outiiwd8YJI/s320/brian1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140019730862532546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1UEYlSPZ7I/AAAAAAAAAAg/4tklT3mDiz4/s1600-h/brian2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1UEYlSPZ7I/AAAAAAAAAAg/4tklT3mDiz4/s320/brian2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140019370085279666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comic, by Lauren Kohne, inspired by "Brian"&lt;br /&gt;story above - Heather Speck - SF, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Usually I work on Haight, but once and a while I’d have to go to the office on Polk St so I had to take the 19. That has got to be the most notorious bus route. Some people say that the 9 is pretty dangerous, but I think the 19 is the most craziest bus route. I mean on that day I heard people planning robberies, selling drugs out in the open... Everyone is shady on that bus. So it starts going up Polk into the TL and some big tall black dude yells for the bus “Hey hey hey!” and the fuckin bus driver doesn’t pull over he just keeps on driving and the guy is cursing and yelling and trying to run after the bus but it’s too late, we’re gone. So we go a couple more blocks. Suddenly the black guy shows up again he’s running after the bus and he managed to catch up to it and he’s running along the drivers side banging on his window yelling, “mother fucker ahhhh let me in!” and so finally the driver lets him on the bus. Big mistake – don’t let somebody onto the bus after you’ve (in an obvious way) not let them on – But he did so then all the guy did was stand there right in front of the bus driver and curse him out for the next 3 or 4 blocks till finally the bus driver defected to saying “look I’m gonna call the police” – so he got off." -  Anonymous – SF.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-860324344988081882?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/860324344988081882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=860324344988081882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/860324344988081882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/860324344988081882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/usually-i-work-on-haight-but-once-and.html' title='COMIC: &quot;Brian &amp; the Bus&quot;'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1UEtlSPZ8I/AAAAAAAAAAo/Outiiwd8YJI/s72-c/brian1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-7962958076054788755</id><published>2007-12-03T23:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T23:10:26.431-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1T9SlSPZ6I/AAAAAAAAAAY/tfGHgzXjQlI/s1600-h/denisecover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1T9SlSPZ6I/AAAAAAAAAAY/tfGHgzXjQlI/s320/denisecover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140011570424670114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-7962958076054788755?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7962958076054788755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=7962958076054788755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7962958076054788755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/7962958076054788755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/R1T9SlSPZ6I/AAAAAAAAAAY/tfGHgzXjQlI/s72-c/denisecover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417671436034269905.post-3768157826375028019</id><published>2007-12-03T22:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T23:07:54.971-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Issue #1</title><content type='html'>check out the website: www.stepdownmagazine.com to purchase a copy of issue #1 "Introducing a Bus"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise ahem... consider this your brief introduction to "stepdown" and idea conceived after many years of riding public transportation in many cities around the world. It is always an adventure... or... something like that....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter this blog at your own risk. Nothing is withheld.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1417671436034269905-3768157826375028019?l=stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/feeds/3768157826375028019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1417671436034269905&amp;postID=3768157826375028019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3768157826375028019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1417671436034269905/posts/default/3768157826375028019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stepdown-stepdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/issue-1.html' title='Issue #1'/><author><name>stepdown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10777259829198202262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXFBFP96kE8/SNutvJTgXmI/AAAAAAAAAIk/YV9jpy-sbDQ/S220/look.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
