Today I boarded the F bus--the Transbay--which, for its lengthy, bridge-crossing route, tends to pick up a mix even more diverse than usual AC Transit fare.
I waited at the stop in the dark with two men who walked and moved like adolescents, laughing sputteringly behind their hands, reeking of weed. We got on the bus when it came and I moved on back, sat across from a couple of old, really old hippies. His dingy white dreadlocks bobbed with the wheels on the bus going 'round, and her flowing floweredy skirt was topped with a camouflage Grateful Dead jacket. They eyed me with enough of a glint that I knew they wanted to talk. The white headphones snaking up and out from under my jacket blocked their attempts to lure me into their conversations.
The podcast I was listening to, Mark Kermode's movie reviews from the BBC, was cut off as my iPod battery finally bit the dust. I pulled one earbud out, heard the man in front of me shout, "Butterfly!" and point at my knee, and I put it back in.
I left the silent headphones in my ears as the moth that had lighted on my leg flew up and out of the bus at the next stop. I followed it down to the sidewalk and, safely alone, freed my ears and shoved the earphones into my jacket pocket.
I waited at the stop in the dark with two men who walked and moved like adolescents, laughing sputteringly behind their hands, reeking of weed. We got on the bus when it came and I moved on back, sat across from a couple of old, really old hippies. His dingy white dreadlocks bobbed with the wheels on the bus going 'round, and her flowing floweredy skirt was topped with a camouflage Grateful Dead jacket. They eyed me with enough of a glint that I knew they wanted to talk. The white headphones snaking up and out from under my jacket blocked their attempts to lure me into their conversations.
The podcast I was listening to, Mark Kermode's movie reviews from the BBC, was cut off as my iPod battery finally bit the dust. I pulled one earbud out, heard the man in front of me shout, "Butterfly!" and point at my knee, and I put it back in.
I left the silent headphones in my ears as the moth that had lighted on my leg flew up and out of the bus at the next stop. I followed it down to the sidewalk and, safely alone, freed my ears and shoved the earphones into my jacket pocket.
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