Muni Orange

Late to work again. Had to move the car for street cleaning. As a result, I ended up taking a later-than-usual Muni bus to work. I got on, checked out my surrounding and found an open seat next to a skinny, shakey man in leather. Whatever... San Francisco non-commuter types- I thought. As I sat next to him, he reached behind me to hold onto the seat so that he wouldn't slide off of his chair. I noticed that he made all of these nervous gestures, tapping his foot, straightening out his pants, clenching his jaw-- and I pretended that I was psychic and could read him, I closed my eyes and felt the back of my head knot up- Oh, he was an angry, psychotic junkie. I know these types. I know them from my hometown. Eventually he got up and left the bus. Next, I heard a man asking if anyone had a spare dollar- "Excuse me sir, do you have a spare dollar?" At first, I thought it was a polite commuter desperate for a coffee--but that is obviously a ridiculous notion. A commuter would never ask for spare change-- at least, not in this city. Eventually the man came up to me and sat down in the spot the gentleman with the leather jacket had been sitting. I closed my eyes, again playing the psychic game, and tried to read him. A pain shot through my heart-- This was a sad man, I concluded. Suddenly, the bus jolted and the woman next to me started leaning into me. She was comforting. The dollar man got up and ran off of the bus at the next stop-- and I heard this whisper from the lady next to me--"next stop mr. driver." Ahhhh-- I knew who she was! This autistic -I think- Chinese girl with salt and pepper hair. Sometimes she talks to herself over and over and sometimes whispers which stop is hers. I like her very much. She rocks back and forth and I find watching her like going into a trance.

So, that was my morning commute-- and who knows if I have any psychic abilities, but it was fun to pretend.