Okay, it’s true that I’m tattooed, shave my head except for a longish ponytail, and wear mostly black plus several necklaces. And admittedly, at the time of my story I had a job which involved carrying a heavy-laden daypack around, and therefore I often ended up flushed, panting a bit and sweating a bit more, and generally looking frazzled. Often enough, I had to board a bus in that state while I did my job.

But all I did that one workday, I swear, was jump on a #14 Mission bus in the late afternoon and stand near a tiny, Mexican-or-Central-American-looking lady about the same age as my granny who was sitting in one of the front seats.

We inadvertently made eye contact. She scoped out my outfit, my jewelry and my general demeanor…then slowly and deliberately *crossed herself* while looking right at me and audibly whispering *”Dios mio!”*

My jaw dropped a little. I wasn’t going to say anything — I was raised to be really, really polite to older people,and besides that, y’know, First Amendment and all — but she got up and started to debus in rather a hurry. So I said “Thank you, ma’am”, like a well-mannered Childe Ov Satan, and sat down in her just-vacated seat.

Been blessed or saved on Muni lately? Time to sing it from the mountaintops, so to speak. Send us your stories!

Photo by Flickr user Marc Broens

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