Visual Rapists, Thieves, and Prada
So I’m riding the 6, heading outbound, up Haight Street when i hear this woman having a conversation. She’s young, well-dressed and wearing a pair of dark dark sunglasses. And at first she’s just talking to herself, quietly, saying things like, “I know who you are, I know who you are.” She’s repeating it over and over, rocking from side to side while doing so.
I notice peeps are starting to look around, trying to figure out who she’s talking to, maybe it’s them, maybe it’s herself, it’s tough to say because of those dark glasses. It’s then that the bus makes a stop at Divisadero and a few passengers get on. This guy in a blue button up and navy pants sits in the open seat next to the woman. I see everybody kind of look around at each other, knowing this guy just stepped on a land mine.
The bus driver closes the door and with one big jerk the bus chugs up the hill.
“I know who you are, I know who you are. ” The woman starts rocking again, but this time she turns the guy in the blue shirt and says, “Quit looking at me.” The guy looks puzzled. “What,” he says. “Quit looking at me, you think you know me? I know who you are, I know who you are,” she says.
Then the woman shifts in her seat and starts screaming at the top of her lungs, “Visual Rapist! Visual Rapist! Stop looking at me Visual Rapists!”
OMG, it’s one day away: The first-ever 
Our very own Suzanne was trolling Flickr getting 
I’ve noticed a lot more substance abuse on Muni lately. I’m not talking about the teenagers smoking pot or even drunk USF frat boys on a Friday night. I’m talking about morning and evening rush hour, regular-looking adults boozing it up on the bus. It started a few weeks ago on my evening commute home on the 5. This late-twenties-looking redheaded guy in hipster work attire busted out a flask. Now, since a flask is classier than a brown bag and it was the evening I guess he can be excused. I know I enjoy a glass of red wine with dinner. Maybe he was just getting a head start.