Your place to share stories on and off the bus.
This photo came to us via Jon Snyder – “First time I’ve seen breastfeeding on the J,” so here’s a photo Jon took with his iPhone.
I know people have strong feelings about breastfeeding – whether to do it, how long to breastfeed your child, and of course, is it ok to do it in public?
Photo by Jonathan Snyder, of @jonsnyder fame.
I am always surprised at what people will do to try to find love (or just lust, depending on your needs) on Muni. Yesterday I was on the J train and overheard this successful attempt at getting a date.
Cast of characters:
Romeo (man wearing a newsboy cap, sunglasses – even though it was at night – and standing…no, leaning casually against the back of the train)
Juliet (young woman wearing a cute white track jacket, heading to Dolores Park)
Me (you know, creepily pretending to read my newspaper while eavesdropping for Muni Diaries)
The Hit:
Romeo: Hey so you’re in school, huh? Yeah, me too, i mean, I am in transition. I am in the film industry.
Juliet: Oh what kind of film do you make?
Romeo: Well, I will be making films as soon as the lawsuit is over.
Juliet: Lawsuit?
Romeo: Yes, with a former employer. Over employment issues. God, total assholes. But as soon as that is over, I can use the money from the lawsuit to transition into my art. Hey do you want to go to dinner or lunch some time?
Much much to my surprise, Juliet takes out her phone and gives him her number, takes down his number and gets off the train. They are having lunch tonight if I overheard right. Aaaah love is in the air. But geez am I too much of a cynic to hope that she gave him a fake number?
Let’s start with a logic puzzle of sorts.
Q: Where are you if you see four J-Church metro trains, all headed downtown?
A: Gee, probably on Church? Maybe in Glen Park. One thing’s for sure, you can’t possibly be at Carl and Cole, smack-dab in N-Judah territory.
Oh, wait.
I was going out to Cole Valley yesterday, meaning the N-Judah would, theoretically, be the best way there. I didn’t run into huge problems on the way there, but coming back was another story altogether.
I had a surprisingly pleasant Muni experience on the way to work yesterday, only because it went beyond my expectations. As I believe I’ve said before, I have a good Muni location, I walk down from the Lower Haight to Church and Duboce, give a quick glance for any incoming N-Judahs or J-Churches, and if I don’t see one, I continue down to Church Street Station and try my luck at an L, M or the dreaded K/T whatever the hell it is. I say dreaded because it is usually only one car, and even though it technically begins just one station away at Castro Street, it is usually packed to the gills. I guess that’s because it’s also a K, and has come all the way from Balboa Street Station. Anyway, when I got down to Church Street Station on Monday I was immediately disheartened because on the incoming train monitor I saw a one-car K was the only train coming. I said to myself, “I guess I’ll be standing all nice and intimate all the way to Powell Street today.” But, I was wrong, for the first time ever on my way to work and since the T was introduced, the train was sparsely populated, well air-conditioned and hauled ass downtown. Just want to give Muni props, that although it seems like you can and should only expect the worst, sometimes Muni doesn’t screw you. You have to enjoy it when it happens.
— Rob
Rob Nagle works at a free San Francisco daily newspaper that has been sprucing up its Web presence.
So I was riding the J-Church on Friday to my chiropractor’s office and there was an empty seat next to mine. I was listening to something on my iPod — heavy metal probably — at some incredibly loud volume, as I am wont to do.
A family got on, and their son, who I’m guessing was about 10-12, sat down next to me. He turned toward me and I figured he was just looking out the window. But then I realized he had opened his mouth.
I pulled out my earbuds and said, “Sorry, what?”
“Hello!” he said. He was adorable — blond, blue-eyed, pint-sized glasses, dressed casually.
“Hi,” I said, in a genuinely friendly way, and then went back to my introspective rocking out.
About two seconds later, I thought to myself: Doesn’t it just figure, the first time a cute boy says hello to me on the train, he’s prepubescent?
And then he got up and went to sit somewhere else. Hmph.
— Beth W.
Beth loves the J-Church, hates being hit on by strangers, and yet secretly wonders why it never happens to her.