Don’t Do My Beloved 49 That Way

smokeshopEverything was going more or less as we had planned. We had a short wait at 20th and Mission, nothing out of the ordinary. Our inbound 49 arrived, and with ample seating. We plopped down on the back row, Tara and I, sitting on and surrounded by so much tagging, I remarked that it was so hideous, it almost came back to beautiful (the so-called Saturn effect). Sadly, I didn’t take a photo.

All the windows were closed, which didn’t sit well with my needs as an oxygen-consuming being. I cracked the one nearest me a subtle 1.5 inches. All was well.

(An odd interlude, if I may — and because I don’t feel like writing it out, I point you to this Muni Diaries Twitter update.)

It was the ride back to the Mission, again on the 49, that has me writing this diary on an otherwise lovely, dreary Sunday morning.

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“No more bunnies!”

Lucky Bunny

Coming home Wednesday on the 6, it was a typical evening rush-hour crowd. By about 6th St, everyone was squished together in the aisles. Luckily, having gotten on at 2nd, I had a precious seat near the back door.

At about 9th St, the bus driver yells, “Wheelchair coming on, clear the wheelchair seats!” and I’m proud to report that those people dutifully cleared the way as the man in the wheelchair carefully rolled his way down the aisle. Things were looking good; the wheelchair guy was joking around with some other passengers about the difficulty of parallel parking his chair into the space on the bus and no one seemed miffed to have been forced to stand on an already crowded bus.

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Muni Mind Reader: The Tweaker

I Lost Me to MethThe latest installment in Tiffany Maleshefski’s Muni Mind Reader series peers inside the mental machinations of the so-called tweaker. This is someone we’ve all seen on the bus or on the street and probably tried to ignore. But hey, they’re people too.

Hellloooo fellow bus passengers! Hello! Hi. Hi there. Is that a baby? Is this your baby? HI BABY!!! You like coffee, huh? I HATE YOU. Why is everyone looking at me? HEY DRIVER! IS THIS MY STOP? What is Gavin Newsom doing anyway? DRIVER! Give me my transfer. Yes, I paid you. OKAY FINE! I don’t know why everyone picks on me. Sigh.

Yes! I am the tweaker!

I go from low to high

And I’ll be tweakin’ till the day I die

I was just singing The Who. You know, The Who? Never mind.

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Playboys and Boys Playing …

playboy on the subway

This delightful tale is by Amy

Ok, so apparently it’s Gross on BART week, although I don’t remember seeing a press release. (Sorry, I didn’t snap any pictures).

On the way home yesterday, this guy with a beard and baseball cap was reading Playboy on BART. A group of middle-aged women, noticing this, got up quickly and scattered like he was contagious or something. One of them said, quite loudly, “I GUESS HE’S READING IT FOR THE ARTICLES.”

Bearded guy, clearly only slightly embarrassed, folded the magazine cover over and continued to look at it.

But what I saw this morning will stick with me for a month, at least.

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Creative punishment for fare-jumping?

MUSTI don’t know about you, but I can appreciate a certain level of honesty with some things, including breaking the law. Especially if you get caught. (“Ah. Yes, officer, I know how fast I was going. Very fast, indeed”.)  By the same token, I also appreciate subtle, off-script ways of punishing people for doing so.

Fare jumpers often seem more nonchalant than anything else. They keep their heads down as they wrench those back doors open by their fingernails, and generally don’t say much or cause a ruckus while they’re trying not to get squished in the doorway.

This gal on a 10-Townsend one afternoon put them all to shame.

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