waiting

It's 11:00 PM and I am at 16th and Mission waiting for the 22 to take me home after going to see Julie Michelle's opening night reception of her project I Live Here:SF, an ongoing, open invitation to San Francisco residents to enjoy and participate in sharing the many facets of life in this city.

Three minutes until the bus comes. Three minutes to stand, to look at those around me who are also waiting. Some are waiting with friends and loved ones, laughing and standing close to stay warm. Some are waiting alone, just like me, listening to an ipod, talking on the phone or standing in silence. And the others? Largely outnumbering all those getting on the bus, may be waiting (and asking) for money, yes. But more importantly, they are waiting for eye contact, for a sense of recognition.

I take one of the last empty seats located in the back of the bus. Two stops later a man gets on and as he nears to take an empty seat, the bus accelerates up the hill and he launches forward. Two people seated near extend their arms to catch him -- one hand on his chest and one on his side. As he takes a seat everyone who noticed laughed to themselves, including the man. I look to the guy seated to my right and say with a smile on my face, "That's happened to me before". "Me too. That happens to me everyday", he says with the same smile.

We exchanged no more words, no one on the bus did for that matter. Four stops later I get off the bus and begin my short walk home. I wasn't waiting for anything anymore except to get to my front door, go inside, and put a warm sweatshirt on.

The man who almost fell on the bus did not have to wait for an extended hand, the assistance he received was automatic. By the time I get home there are new people waiting at 16th and Mission for the next 22 to drive by and pick them up. There are also the same people who were there when I was. They are waiting and will be for the rest of the night and the next night and the next night...