A high-school age boy and girl, both carrying instruments (and presumably just leaving band/orchestra practice) are passing the time while waiting for the 48. They call a few friends who are also waiting for the 48 several stops north, then spend a few moments discussing whether they missed it or it’s really, really late. This apparently reminds the girl of a recent adventure.
Band Nerd Girl: “Last summer, when I was in Israel …”
Band Nerd Boy: “Dude, are you Jewish?”
BNG: “Yes.” [long pause, long sigh] “But just ’cause I went to Israel doesn’t make me Jewish.”
BNB: “Oh I know. But well, if you went to Israel and you’re still in high school, then that would probably mean … Well I guess maybe not with your parents …”
He continues to flail until the girl interrupts him.
BNG: “As I was saying, last summer, when I was in Israel …”
I could learn a thing or two from this young bus chick.
The conversation recovers, and they return to the safer territory of class work and mutual friends, until the boy becomes too distracted by his impatience for the bus to arrive. A 4 passes. An 8 (which can look promising to the untrained eye) turns right before it reaches us. An empty artic is headed “To Terminal.” Finally, a fourth bus approaches in the distance.
BNB: “This one better be the 48.”
BNG: “If it’s not, what are you going to do?”
Excellent question, my dear. Excellent question.
And this was just a fraction of them:
Three stops in a row were packed (as they are every weekday at 2:30) with energetic, just-released adolescents. It’s faster to walk those five blocks than it is to wait through all the loading drama and then creep along on a vehicle filled far, far beyond capacity. And forget about getting off.
Did I mention that the 48 passes five high schools (that I know of)?
A college kid bids his compatriots farewell as he prepares to get off at his stop (somewhere on 15th). One of them calls to him:
“Hey, get some minutes on your phone and holler at me!”
Chicklet ain’t the only one who travels with one of these:
In case you can’t tell from my phone photo, that’s a pacifier in our young (but not that young!) bus chick’s mouth.* Maybe it helped her keep her cool in the midst of the rampant bus fouls taking place on that ride.
The photos aren’t clear enough to warrant an official caption it!, but if you’ve got a good one, don’t be shy.
* This actually isn’t a new phenomenon (remind me to tell you about my days as a high-school teacher), but it is the first time I’ve seen it on the bus.
Last night, we left work early to attend Bus Nerd’s Godson Shannon’s graduation from Ingraham (545 + 41+ 346). Thanks to Friday evening traffic, we were running late, so late that we were afraid we were going to miss Shannon’s walk. Fortunately, two young men who rode the 346 with us were also late to the graduation. They used their Sidekick to keep in touch with their graduate, and I used my eavesdropping skills to figure out just how much we had missed. (“She says it’s hella crowded–oh, the principal just gave his speech.”) Thank goodness for modern technology (and teenage texting trife).
Unfortunately, the young men with the Sidekick weren’t the only folks making use of handheld devices. Our 346 driver spiced up the ride by driving one-handed while chatting on his cellie.
Come on, man. If you’re going to go there, at least get a headset.
Chillaxin’ on the way to school:
Perhaps she heard (from our girl on the 27) that people really like to sit on seats with dirty shoeprints.