Here is another installment of How I Decide Where to Sit! Because grad school makes everything meta.
Today I was running a bit late due to congestion. In my sinuses, not traffic. I was running so late that I had to take Muni to the work shuttle, which is kind of like shotgunning Coors before sipping Ardbeg.
On my way, I glimpsed the new rare bird in the Muni aviary, the NX bus. The NX bus is striped dark blue, that is how you know it is the NX. Like Night-X. Or Nix. So goth. Also, no one is on it. That is another way you know it is the NX. Why is this? Because it stops a billion times from the beach to 19th Avenue and then never again until Bush and Montgomery. I shouldn’t be so hard on the lonely, gothy NX. Today is its first day. Maybe this plan will wildly succeed, unlike every other SFMTA plan.
But back to my work shuttle. I was feeling rather proud of myself, arriving three minutes early despite Muni, when I realized the shuttle was pulling away from the curb. Three minutes early. Which could mean only one thing: no room! I ran to catch it anyway, pissing off the driver, who gave me stink-eye because he doesn’t like aisle-standers. Believe me, I don’t like being an aisle-stander, but if I don’t open the library on time, brains will go hungry!
Aisle-standing, or shuttle-surfing as I like to think of it, is an acquired taste. I have not acquired it. Sometimes it involves glomming onto the wheelchair-accessible ramp machinery and hoping it doesn’t unfasten itself from the wall. Other times, lucky times like this morning, I cling to the metal bar up front and pretend to be a very untalented and apathetic pole-dancer. Also without dancing or taking my clothes off, and while reading “A Game of Thrones”. It’s kind of a stretch, but I am committed.
HIDWtS Rating: Two sore feet. A Water Dancer would not have sore feet.