Riding Muni is like channel surfing and walking to work is like reading a novel.
On Muni, everyone's kind of in a hurry, sort of irritated. We're crammed underground and at the mercy of the driver. The day is good when you get the smooth-voiced Johnny Otis-sounding guy and there are no back-ups. The day's not so good when you get the silent driver and some guy with a backpack flailing about.
When I walk to work, the city unfolds in different ways. There's time to take in the details and to exercise the imagination. Today I actually followed a woman who has caught my eye this week as she made her way through the Civic Center farmer's market. She's got sparkly gold and pink glasses, but she always looks pissed off. She blasts her way up the sidewalk, arms akimbo, like some aging Red Rover player. I didn't find the cause of the disconnect between her glasses and her manner, but I did see her buy a whole lot of potatoes. Maybe she's in starch shock. More on her tomorrow.
I also scored two delicious tamales for lunch. Does glasses lady feel my gratitude?