Sometimes people yell across the street at each other because they're angry. Other times, it's more like this. While taking the turn from Jackson to 4th at "walking speed" (as per the old rulebook), a man at the island stop howls into the dark night,
"Mister 49, how you doin!" He draws it out. Doo-in. Picture the thick Italian accent, a supporting character from Goodfellas.
"One of the best drivers in the whole city!"
Modesty doesn't work when screaming is the only acceptable volume. I respond with, "how are you??"
"Whuh joo think, I'm beautiful." Beeayootiful. "I love you, man!"
"You're a gentleman!"
When I looked up in the mirror a minute later, everyone was still smiling. You can ride the buzz off a small moment like that for hours.
Later, a drunk man at Andover called out to me: "hey, pretty lady!"
"Oh," he said. Disappointed. Now, embarrassed. "Oh." And finally, just plain friendly: "hey!"
"Hey! Have a good one now!"
"What did he call you?" asked the grave shift man as we pulled away, on his way to work at 7-11. Yes, he works 11 to 7 at 7-11.
"He called me pretty lady!"
"That's what I thought I heard, but I couldn't believe it!"
"Yeah, that's when you know it's time to get my haircut!"
Please forgive my minimal presence on the blog this week– things are exceptionally busy in both the bus world and the art world right now. I suppose this is good, but it means the great backlog of stories wells ever higher... I'm looking forward to having more for you next week!
Also, great to see so many familiar faces on the 70 today, which I haven't driven in over a year! You all made that traffic a lot more fun than it could've been. Who knew sitting around on Stewart Street for thirty minutes could be so pleasant? You're threatening to make the 70 as exciting as the 7! Don't draw me away from my baby!