Monday: Had my regular driver back on the number 8 going to work. On the number 11, it was Lynn, James, and myself. Lynn worked the weekend, so she was tired. (Different James from the one in the afternoon). This one works next door to me at Intuit, and didn’t have a bike today. He told me about his motorized tricycle and how it works with charging it up vs. pedaling. He said it can go up to 25 m.p.h.
I walked with my friend in Technical Pubs, Travis Owens up Country Club to Valencia, because he wanted to go to Circle K.
Got on the bus, Travis went in the back to chill out and I spoke with a woman who rides the bus I’d never spoken with before. She’s 48, grew up in Douglas, Arizona, her name’s Christina and she works making plastic molds. She says she likes it, but may move to Miami to join her daughter. She told me she’s afraid of the bugs, though.
My number 8 was on time, with a different driver, who drove the bus like a getaway job in the movie, The Italian Job.
Elizabeth had a bad meeting with her boss Saturday, where she got picked on for two hours. She didn’t have time to change out of her business clothes, but she looked great today. She talked about Fay and her mock interviews to be the manager of Catherines’ Plus Sizes at Broadway and Swan. Fay deserves it and it’s obvious her bosses have her on the short list. Fay’s boyfriend got himself in trouble drinking in public though. He’s been living with Elizabeth and Fay and they are both disappointed in him. They’re good folks, they don’t deserve this.
Tuesday: Lynn told me about the rules at Sears on my number 11 going to work. Walking up Mossman to the number 11, it was warm. A Chihuahua started following me, then a man called for him, the dog got out apparently. I stayed stationary so he could catch him and bring him home.
On the 11 both ways, I rode with the James, who works at Intuit. He talked about driving buses in Seattle and having Bill Gates as a passenger. Apparently back in the ’70’s, Seattle took a chance and upped the number of buses when ridership was low. It worked, more people started riding the bus and that’s continued. I can tell the difference between nine years ago, when I moved here and now, there are many more bus passengers. I didn’t get to talk to Louis and Christina, because James is a talker. The other James, James Teng must’ve had to work later and wasn’t on the bus.
Another talker, Wayne works at Sears. He talked about someone he works with who rides his number 11 in the morning and cusses all the time. No need for that, save the cuss words for when you need it. We both talked about controlling eating.
My friend and fan, another Sara, got on at Craycroft, with one of her co-workers named Chia (pronounced Kia like the car, not chia like the pet, though Sarah had fun teasing her and making her animated. Sarah was teasing her, “He’s my friend, you can’t sit next to him!” Gee, being fought over at my age, I may blush. 🙂
The bus was on time again. Way cool!! Sarah talked about having turtles as pets and their movements. (She has the nice silver turtle ring she wears). She talked about taking life slow, being observant, and wanting to write. I couldn’t disagree.
Wednesday: Cold waiting at Alvernon and Broadway for the number 11. Loretta was talking about recepies and enjoying cooking. She was reading Food and Wine. Then she told Lynn and me she would be gone for eleven days. We teased her, must be nice LOL! She’s been at American Airlines for 27 years, so she gets all sorts of vacation. She said when you retire they give you an eagle shaped door stop, but she just want to walk out the door and be gone. I laughed. I rang the bell for Lynn to get off and was too early. No Bruce to compete with for ringing the bell either LOL!
Walking to the number 11 going home, I was crossing Palo Verde and some guy passing by in a car shouted, “Use the crosswalk!” I got to the bus stop and there was a mother with her son, who I see occasionally. I suspect he has some sort of developmental problem. A lone yellow jacket came by and he flipped out running and screaming, so of course the yellow jacket chased him. I was afraid he would run into traffic on Palo Verde. His Mom had to drag him on the bus. James Teng, Louis, and Christina were there. I told them about my work idea and meeting with the head of HR on Friday.
This really strange guy got on at Ajo. He commented positively on my suspenders and shirt, looked for someone, who would loan him a cellphone and then went to sit next to a young kid with blue hair and tried to talk to her about it. He talked about being a San Diego Chargers fan and them losing games badly. A man on the bus had a Green Bay Packers shirt on, so he went on about that. Strange. I felt as though I was part of a three ring circus and not the ringmaster.
My number 8 was in four near accidents, with people cutting the bus off. Elizabeth was cracking me up, loud and in rare form. Mostly about work and having to get another job.
Thursday: The driver on my number 8 going to work was off his pace and had to hit the brakes to stop for the light at Kolb. When he pulled into the stop across the street, the kid getting on the bus had questions and the driver seemed annoyed.
Bruce was back on the bus with his fiancee. He was missing in action because he was in an accident on his bike broke three ribs and punctured a lung. When we boarded the number 11, and Bruce told Lynn what happened, she looked at him and said, excuses excuses. I added, “Calling in with a cold and sniffling would’ve been simpler.” We decided Loretta was starting her eleven day vacation early. Some people gotta work for a living. 🙂
I guess because of Bruce’s accident, we ended up on the subject of death. We all agreed about donating our organs and being cremated, though I thought about being buried in Fenway Park. I’m trying to imagine the letter. Dear Boston Red Sox, I want to be buried at home plate in Fenway Park. Hmmmmm.
Lynn teased me about forgetting to ring the bell for her one day, saying Bruce didn’t train me well enough.
I got off with James and he took his bike and rode off. Cold morning. When I was almost at work, my flashlight picked something up. I tought I taw a Putty Cat. A very BIG putty tat. I think it was a Mountain Lion. If it was it was well out of its territory and I may have been seeing things, but I don’t think so.
Coming home on the 11 this dog that once followed me to work was dodging traffic on Palo Verde. The kid from yesterday luckily was NOT running from bees.
On the bus, I said hello to James Teng and Christina, but was spacing out and not feeling sociable.
When I boarded my number 8, Elizabeth was wired, because she had a busy work day like me and Fay’s boyfriend is in jail. He made a terrible mistake, met up with some people on the bus who induced him into transporting drugs, because he felt he had to contribute some money to the household. Sadly, he told Elizabeth, he had a bad feeling about what he was doing that day. He should’ve gone with his instincts, always a good thing. He is a good kid at heart, I hope this works out.
Friday: On my number 11 this morning, Loretta decided to go to work, so we teased her about that. Bruce had to tell her about his little bike accident. I was teasing him again about being ticketed for being over the influence and having to go to bike traffic school.
Loretta has missed work, because of Valley Fever. If you live in Tucson, you quickly learn what that is. Loretta also has a bad trigger finger. She was complaining about this doctor she went to who just wanted her to look it up on the Internet. The doctor told her he does nine of those surgeries a day. She told him, “I’m not number 10, I’m Loretta.” I told her the trigger finger could find its way around a 357 Magnum. She said, no, I’ll just curl up the other four fingers and bop him one in the nose.
James got off the bus and got on his bike. I won’t see him for ten days so wished him a good holiday. I walked down Mossman, occasionally looking at the sky with the stars. A cold crisp morning.
Coming home, I was going to a dinner for my Romance Writers of America Chapter, Saguaro Romance Writers. We have literary agent Michelle Grajkowski speaking at our meeting tomorrow and we were taking her to dinner at the Old Pueblo Grill at Broadway and Alvernon. I worked overtime, checked the Sun Tran schedule and walked to Drexel and Country Club to take the number 26 bus to the Laos Transit Center, across from the rodeo ground on Irvington.
I was wearing a red designed shirt, my new jeans and my cowboy boots. Mexican women in cars were giving me the eye. Men were looking at me cross eyed. I guess I sort of looked like a Pistolero except for my glasses and canvas bag with my writing notebook. I could have been like Vanderbilt in the watchtower in the ’60’s comedy F Troop.
Got to Laos Transit Center, I was practically the only Anglo and even the cops were giving me funky looks. Boarded the number 11, the driver was polite, but strict and at times a bit out of it. Bus was ten minutes late, but no big deal, got to where I was going.
And that was my week on the bus.