Bus hopping truly requires letting go of all and any fears...particularly those fears that come with wearing a summer dress on the bus (as has been noted in past adventures). However, there comes a time when all the friends and characters not on the bus make us question traveling by foot.
Yesterday was a spectacular summer day that nearly mimicked any day in Southern California. As I walked down Shattuck Avenue amongst all of the regulars and those getting off work, I knew I had one mission and one mission only: to get on the 51B and go back home.
This indeed was not as simple as it sounded. As I attempted to walk down the seedy sidewalk, a petite teddy-graham shaped cholo stumbled past me remarking "Hola Bonita...mmm...you are guapa!"
To this I could only say "Bleh" and roll my eyes. But afterwards I wondered many things: 1) How many times has this "pick-up" line ever really worked in all honesty? 2) Why should I have to worry about cholos in Berkeley? 3) I should be able to wear summer clothes in the summer. And scene.
Maybe he thought I was Nancy Botwin from Weeds, but I wasn't even driving around in a Prius with an iced coffee in hand.
All I knew was that even if I were to get looked at on the bus in my summer garb, at least I wouldn't have to deal with miniature friends in baggy pants and flannel.
And in this I realized why riding the bus was in fact a magical, sacred ritual that nothing could top.
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