Category Archives: overheard

Westbound 27, 12:15 PM

A sixtysomething woman stands near the front door looking for her fare. Her purse-digging delays the driver long enough that a forty-ish man running at full speed is able to make it to the stop before the bus pulls away. He walks past the woman on his way to his seat, breathing hard but still looking sharp in a black Kangol and blue silk shirt.

The woman raises her eyebrows.

“You didn’t have to do all that.” she mutters. “You look too good for all that running.”

Westbound 2, 12:20 PM

A group of middle-aged people, dressed like teenagers and walking a tiny dog, board at Broadway. They make their way to the back, chattering as they go.

Woman 1: “I’d rather talk to people I don’t know.”
Woman 2: “I know, me too. After people get to know me, they’re like, ‘I don’t like you. You’re a b*tch.’”

Southbound 106 stop, Rainier & Henderson, 4:45 PM

A group of young women are passing the long wait for our bus with conversation.

Woman 1: “It’s the body’s attempt at achieving equilibrium. I learned that in psychology.”
Woman 2: “Girl took one psychology class, and now she’s an expert.”
Woman 1: “Two, honey. Two. I failed one and then took it again.”

Westbound 27 stop, Yesler & 3rd, 8:15 AM

Moments after the kids and I step off the bus (on our way to the Water Taxi for a summer adventure), a 50-ish Latino man approaches and hands me a business card for his wife’s hair shop, which has recently opened somewhere nearby.

“My wife is black,” he explains, “so she’s specializes in black hair. Braids, barber services…” He stops to look at us more closely, then hesitates. “Also Middle Eastern hair. Erm. All kinds of hair.”

Eastbound 27 stop, Yesler & 3rd, noon

A young black woman with a beautiful, medium length, natural hairstyle exits a building near the stop and walks to it. Two middle-aged white men exit shortly after her and pause to chat on their way down the hill. Seconds into the conversation, one of them says, “[Rachel], your hair is the talk of the office.”

She smiles uncomfortably. “Really? Hopefully, my performance is as well.”

Eastbound 4, 12:30 PM

A sixtyish man is sitting in front of me, looking out the window as we creep up James. We pass a handful of people standing on the sidewalk near the jail. Among them is a black priest.

The man snorts in disbelief. “Why would a black person take a vow a poverty? We’re born poor!”

Eastbound 14, 5:30 PM

A fiftysomething woman with crutches is sitting in the sideways-facing seat behind the driver, holding her nose while surveying the chaos surrounding her. She catches the eye of the woman across from her, chuckles, shakes her head, and announces to everyone within earshot, “I’ve got a get a car.”