Just Another Night Riding the 22

Knife

It was a Friday night and I was on my way home from work. I had just gotten off BART at 16th Street and walked over to the bus stop to catch the 22. At first, everything seemed normal. Lots of people were begging for change, people were talking on their cell phones, other were people standing around waiting for the bus and tons of people were walking by in the general area. It seemed like another normal night at 16th and Mission.

As I waited for the 22, I heard some rowdiness over yonder, behind me. I looked over my shoulder and I saw that there were some guys goofing around with each other. They weren’t yelling. Just bumping into each other and being loud.

A few seconds later, these guys walked around to the front of the bus shelter where I was standing. There were three of them. Three Hispanic guys who spoke only Spanish. They were all over the place. One guy was even wandering in the street. I noticed that each of them had a bottle of tequila in their hand.

Suddenly, a black guy came out of nowhere and started speaking broken Spanish to these guys. The black guy walked in the street a bit and around the bus shelter, in plain sight of me, but out of view of the cameras located at the intersection. I’m not sure what triggered it, but one of the Spanish-speaking guys must have pissed off the black guy. This black guy was a young kid with nothing to lose. He seemed to be by himself and started talking mad shit to these guys in Spanish. It almost seemed like he was trying to egg them on into a fight. As soon as the black guy walked right in front of me, he lifted up his sweatshirt to show the fact that he had a gun in his drawers. Everyone standing in the bus shelter bolted out of the area, including myself. The other guys saw the gun, but continued talking back to the black guy. It was like the threat of the black guy having a gun and using it didn’t even phase them. These guys were obviously intoxicated.

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How to Catch a Muni Bus

The wires came off

From Muni rider Axel Feldheim:

I reported this incident my own blog on Monday, April 20, 2009:

I was riding the 22 Fillmore this afternoon, & at 16th & Bryant the driver shut the door on a woman running for the bus. She yelled & pounded on the bus to no avail. Then while the bus was waiting at the stop light, she pulled it off of its wire. I’ve never seen someone do this before. She caught the bus.

Share your Muni riding tips (practice at your own risk, though) and your Muni tales with us.

Photo by Flickr user Juicyrai

How To Avoid Bodily Fluids on Muni

SF MUNI Bus

A lot of gross stuff can happen on Muni, but we weren’t quite prepared for Muni rider Jean’s submission about a downhill-rolling 22:

Puke on the 22

Riding Muni blows chunks. Just like the girl behind me on the 22 that day. It was a few years ago and this girl who was sitting behind me started getting sick. She didn’t smell like booze, I think she was just having some kind of stomach thing.

Anyway, next thing I know, she puked on the floor of the bus. I heard this splattering noise and felt it splash on to the back of my shoes and my pants. OMG!!!! I tried not to freak out and calmly moved to the front of the bus, wishing more than anything that I could be off the bus and not wearing puke splattered clothes.

All was ok for about five minutes. That’s when the bus started going down a hill. The puke rapidly slid from the back of the bus to the front and everyone let out a collective groan of disgust/panic. That’s when I knew that ride was over.

Apologies if you lost your lunch a little just now. I know I did. So what’s a hygienic Muni rider to do? Dear Muni Manners ladies, got any tips for us to keep it clean and righteous on the bus?

Photo by Flickr user So Cal Metro

Gross Spotting #1: 22 between Mission and Valencia

The other day, Rob posted about people’s habit of clipping fingernails on Muni. Yeah. Gross, right?! Well, the other day I spotted an attractive, athletic man flossing his teeth on Muni! But here’s the kicker, when he was done flossing, he single-handedly rolled the thread in a little ball, extended his arm out, and released it onto the floor. What’s next? No, please don’t answer that.

No eating, no drinking, no smoking

Now, I know that sometimes — most times I guess — our Muni stories have nothing to do with us, or choices we make. Usually we’re victims of circumstance. But sometimes, we make our own Muni stories. Before I go on, let me preface this with the fact that, rules are rules, and if some rules aren’t enforced by Muni or are just completely ignored by other Muni riders, then those situations where said rules are ignored or unenforced are just reasons to criticize Muni, am I right? Of course I am.

So, let’s get to the first two rules, first — no eating. Now, myself, I’m going to have to be pretty motherfucking hungry to even want to eat on Muni in the first place. That’s just me, I guess, because I can’t even count the number of times I’ve been subjected to nasty fast food aromas and the grease said food emanates throughout the tiny confines of your standard-issue Muni coach. Then, of course, there’s the sunflower-seed shells that coat the floor of the bus like so many expended ordnance on the battle field. Let’s not forget the other trash that is left behind that we have to kick under the seat in front of us just so we can be comfortable. OK, so, people eat on the bus, whether I like it or not, whether I do it or┬ánot, this happens, it’s against the rules, but I’ve got to live with it.

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Tales From Olden Days 1

Okay, bear with me while I post a couple of years-old stories from aboard Muni. Here’s the first:

March 2006: As I stood waiting for the 22 at 16th and Mission, I noticed a somewhat attractive woman approach the stop. A couple minutes later, the bus arrived, and seeing as how there were only a couple of other boarders besides myself, I kindly let this woman get on first.

I stood patiently behind her as she approached the fare machine, and she had some kind of words with the driver. I couldn’t quite make out what she said, but I did notice that she neglected to pay.

She turned and started walking back on a medium-filled coach. She took a couple of steps away from the machine, and as she did, I stepped up. With people behind me waiting to get on still standing outside the bus, I was doing my best to keep the flow of bus traffic moving steadily along.

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