Allow us to introduce Tiffany Maleshefski, the Amazing Muni Mind Reader! This is the first in our new series where Tiffany will channel the thoughts of a Muni rider directly onto our pages. Ever wonder what your fellow passengers are thinking as we stare at one another during yet another bumpy Muni ride? Tiffany’s got you covered. In today’s installment, Tiffany’s onto that guy who takes up two seats on the bus.
What do you want from me? I’m a guy. Yeah, a big honkin’ guy, and that’s why I just gotta sit here next to you with my legs spread wide apart because I have this equally big honkin’ mass between my legs. I can see you’re aggravated that my right thigh is on my seat and yours, but what can I do? Get a smaller package? You’ll have to ask god about that one. Trust me, it bothers me too, but at the end of the day, there’s not much I can do about it.
You on the other hand, well, maybe you could go to the gym a little more, or drink one less latte in the morning. If you toned up, maybe you could only take up 3/4 or even 1/2 your seat, allowing me and my boys some breathing room. It can’t possibly bother you that much can it? Me, sitting here at 8:30 in the morning, my leg touching yours. It’s kind of nice, isn’t it? Neighborly almost. I mean, I already kind of stopped noticing I was taking up two seats in the first place. Surely, you’ve forgotten too.
16th and Mission BART, about 5 p.m. on the second-hottest afternoon in recent memory. Agitated Man standing on landing of the east-entrance stairway eating a hamburger out of a McDonald’s bag and intermittently barking Spanish into a cellphone.
Commuter Woman in Skirt passes Agitated Latino Man. Moments later, Agitated Man is throwing hamburger buns at Commuter Woman in Skirt, screaming largely unintelligible remark ending (mundanely) in “comida.” Commuter Woman in Skirt looks annoyed & slightly threatened, but not overly upset (probably because he missed), proceeds down into station.
Moments later, McDonald’s food mostly consumed, Agitated Man gradually starts heading up stairs, passes Irritable Man with Dog. Agitated Latino Man stops to feed rest of hamburger to Dog. Dog, amenable, stops, eats hamburger. Irritable Man screams at Agitated Man (and/or Dog; wording was ambiguous), waves leash. Agitated Man proceeds back up stairs at accelerated pace, groping for cellphone.
Dog, detecting no further hamburger availability, follows Irritable Man into station. Curtain descends.
On the 49 yesterday evening I sat next to this cute little boy holding his gigantic stuffed animal and talking excitedly to his dad in Spanish. The only English words I can make out were, “No Dad, Blackberry Storm…iPhone…Pearl, no, Blackberry Pearl…”
On my way to SPUR’s Blogging in the City event last night, a cross-dressed man boarded with a bulky roll-on luggage that was topped with yet more black garbage bags filled to the brim. He had crooked teeth and a startled, amused look on his face. As he made his way down the aisle he talked to no one in particular a little too loudly.
Passengers around him looked alarmed and shrugged at one another, trying not to notice.
As the cross dresser got up to leave, a girl accidentally bumped into him and muttered, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be SORRY,” he said sarcastically. “Do you know what ‘sorry’ means in the Merriam Webster dictionary? It means ‘worthless.’ WORTHLESS.”
Under her breath, I think the girl said, “That’s not true.”
“YES it is!,” the cross dresser said, “and I don’t need your negativity!”
I graduated from college and worked as a paper pusher for two and a half years. Now I am in graduate school at SFSU. I have night classes until 10 p.m. every Thursday and by the time I begin the cold walk to the M station I am exhausted – let’s just say having discussions about butch lesbians growing up in the midwest while having cerebral palsy and getting repeatedly raped by her father and his friends is not exactly uplifting material.