A 45 kind of day

Ok. I know I said that the 41 would be my commute line, but there is no getting around using the 45 from where I live - particularly when 1) I'm running late in the morning and just need to pray that Chinatown will allow the 45 to get to Market quicker than the 41 as its supposed to and 2) after a certain time on each side of the midday sun, there's just no choice.

This morning, I thought I was just going to take the 45 for the morning. I was in a rush and it just got on the first bus that came along. At first, it seemed like perhaps the typical Chinatown shoppers, but no. Even though you luck out and get a not-so-crowded ride through Chinatown, there's ALWAYS something that makes the ride unpleasant. Today, it was an old man across the aisle from me coughing into the middle of the aisle. I was sitting in the front seats that face each other. Anyone who knows me will know how torturous this was for me. I made no secret of covering my nose and mouth with my sleeve since he made no effort to cover his mouth from coughing and spittle. The second time he did it, I got up and moved to stand by the back door.

A few choice Chinese phrases that would be useful for me to learn:

"Hey! Didn't yo' mama ever teach you to cover your mouth when you cough?" (I admit, I have a stronger form of this phrase I would like to translate, but probably would never be able to bring myself to say it to an old person.)

"Don't you see all the people?? Move back!"

"Don't push me! You think the bus is going to leave before everyone gets off?!"

or more effectively,

"You better back off, man/lady"

This evening, instead of getting on the 41 toward home, I got on the F line toward the Embarcadero for a little drink in the sun with a friend. How is it that a bunch of tourists walking around all day smell better than the guy who sat next to me on the 45 on my way home?? It was chilly after drinks so I took the F back to the 45 thinking that Chinatown wouldn't be so bad at this time. It wasn't. The "choice" people on the bus, like I said, ALWAYS fodder for a blog entry.

Two stops into my journey, a yuppie looking guy sits next to me with the worst mix of smoke and B.O. I think I was lucky that the smoke was stronger. Across the way from me (again in the front seats), an old dainty looking Chinese woman had half of her hand in her month using a toothpick on what must have been an archaeological dig to dig out some part of the King TUT exhibit because there is NO reason why someone should go at their teeth with a toothpick in public transportation like that. After the salvation stop of Stockton/Columbus, Stinky got off the bus and the archaeologist pivoted around so that her back was to everyone in the bus. I thought she was turning to give herself some privacy, but no. She was using the window as a mirror to help her dig! Finally, at the top of Russian Hill, she pulled the wire to request a stop... with the same fingers that were once in her mouth and were still clutching the steadfast toothpick.

And my friends sometimes tease me about how often I use Purell after getting off the bus!