stella6.com

so, like i mentioned, i’ve been doing some freelance work.  one place i moonlight is waaaaay out in the boonies of the city - it takes me like an hour to get there. i’ll go out there for a couple hours after i’ve already put in 8 hours at my day job - so needless to say when i’m coming home, it’s pretty late.  fortunately there are two busses (i thought) that run as close as door-to-door as i’m going to get at 9 or 10 pm.  last week i found out there is really only *one* bus that does said door-to-door running - and it’s not the one i initially got on.  i took one bus out to this place, and i went ahead and took the same bus back when i was finished.  only problem is … it stops going as far as i need it to, once it gets past, like 7pm.  after 7, it stops in Seedy McSketchy-ville.

when we got to this point, and the bus driver kicked us all off, i briefly thought of just staying on the bus, riding it back to a safer area, getting off there and catching another bus or a cab.  then i realized, most of the area that bus drives through are sketchy. i’d have to ride it halfway back to where i’d been freelancing before i felt safe getting off in a neighborhood i didn’t know at 10 pm.

i was at least familiar with the area where i had to get off. ironic thing is, it’s actually closer, blocks-wise, to my apartment than the stop i was going to get off at.  but walking home west to east is sketchier than walking home east to west.   that’s just how it is.  one block you’re in a ritzy shopping district, the next, you’re being ushered into a porno store by a homeless crack addict.  not kidding.

so there i was - in ghetto-town, 10 pm, on the corner of meth junkie and crack whore, tall, white, blonde and alone. i wasn’t ABOUT  to walk the (mere) 6 blocks back to my building through that mess. so it took me about .25 seconds to decide to take a cab. well, since meth junkies and crack addicts aren’t known for their common use of cabs, there’s not a WHOLE lot going thru those parts.  thank GOD there was a tiny little donut shop on the corner that’s open 24 hours. i went in there to be partially safe, and call a cab.  while i was on hold with the cab company, i saw a couple taxis go by, so i decided to walk out to the bus stop and try to hail a cab from there.

after a couple seconds i got one to pull over, but he wouldn’t let me in. he asked me where i was going, and when i told him, he refused to take me.  the problem was you can’t turn toward the direction of my apartment from the street he was on - he would have had to circle the block, instead of making a direct turn. he was like, ” go walk down to X street, and catch one there.” the whole POINT of getting a cab was to avoid certain death by walking ANYWHERE.  i told him i didn’t care, he could circle the block, and tried to open the door. then, i SHIT YOU NOT, he DROVE THE FUCK AWAY!  i’m SO not even kidding. i’m a BLONDE, well dressed girl in the middle of the ghetto!  i would’ve paid you double just to let me get in the fucking cab!! but aside from that, it should have been obvious i was in distress!

so anyway, a minute later i hailed another cab, who took me around the block and didn’t bitch at all.  i looked up the website of the first cab company so i could leave feedback, but no such luck.  guess i’ll have to call my complaint in - those bitches are gonna get an earful.

i’ll just come out and say it: i tend to be judgemental. i know that i try to hold people up to *my* standards, without taking into account their lives and what they may have been through. I expect them to want to look, act, and dress similarly to the way i would want to look, act, and dress. oh, and i would also brand myself as “pretty tolerant.” but isn’t that kind of the way of things today? “tolerance” is such a buzz-word, but we really only mean that as long as people fit inside *our* boundaries, we can tolerate them. so this discrepancy is something i’m constantly slapping myself on the wrist for. i *want* to be truly tolerant. i *want* to understand people instead of judging them.

i say all this to say that i’m especially at my judging finest when i ride the bus. a whooooole bunch of people ride public transit in this city. but when i see a lot of them, the spoiled brat inside me wants to look down on them, to judge them, and be appalled by them. that’s kind of the premise of the whole “MUNI Chronicles” thing - telling the stories about ridiculous people (and sometimes events) on public transit.

so this one’s a little bit different. it actually happened to me months ago, but i have been meaning to write about it. i was on one of the more ghetto busses (there’s the spoiled brat i was talking about), going home, when a blind man got on with his seeing eye dog. he was fairly young, and the man across from him recognized him and began talking to him. apparently they’d been in a job training class together at the community college. they were talking about where they worked now (both in relatively entry-level positions - a clerk or assistant or something along those lines) and what they’d been up to since the class.

the blind guy started to tell the other guy about the trouble he was having getting government assistance for his rent and medication - all the hoops he’d had to jump through with the offices, HMO’s, etc. but he wasn’t bitching or complaining. normally when i hear people talk about how the government’s not taking good enough care of them, i immediately think - make something of yourself, stop living off my dime, and be accountable for yourself like the rest of us. but this guy’s story actually brought tears to my eyes. from the few minutes i spent listening to him, he seemed like he was doing everything right. and here was somebody the government *should* be helping, and instead it was just making life that much more difficult for him.

that day on the bus, i didn’t come away angry with the traffic, or frustrated with other people. i came away with the feeling that i have so much more than i will ever truly be able to appreciate.