Scratching an itch on Muni
Photo by purpletwinkie
So I’m riding a 71 from downtown with my boyfriend. At Sixth street, a woman begs the driver, “I don’t have any money, I just need to go to the hospital!” The driver doesn’t have time for her story, so he lets her on without fare. She sits in the designated seating, spread across three seats. She’s wearing an ankle-length skirt. She has a stained T-shirt stretched over pendulous breasts that reach her navel. She has a shock of bright pink hair and is about 5’3” and 350. It’s late December, and she’s smiling and wishing a Merry Christmas to all of the riders.
All the locals summarily ignore her because we’re used to sixth street crazies on the bus. Then she starts itching her leg. She works her skirt up a little bit and claws at her calf. Whatever. A couple of tourists get on the bus with their muni 3-day passports. They look like a young couple from New England. The woman wishes them a drunk “Merrrrry Christmuss!!” and smiles. They awkwardly exchange a holiday greeting back. This woman has since moved on to itching her inner knee…. Her skirt is hiked up a little bit more, so she can reach it. She’s still overflowing with holiday cheer.
Finish reading Katie’s story on A Streetcar Called Taraval.
