Story Time

I’m sitting on the 9R bus in SF after getting on at 6th/Market. This older Asian woman (who I’m assuming is a cis woman) gets on the bus, sits within my direct line of vision, and pulls out what looks to be a half eaten homemade pork bun. She’s speaking a language I don’t know to a woman (again, assuming cis woman) sitting across the aisle from her. She proceeds to just nom on this pork bun and talk to her friend with reckless abandon. A stop or two goes by and I can smell the delicious pork bun and am suddenly jealous of her experience. I too would not be able to wait to devour that mouth watering pork bun. Another assumed cis woman gets on the bus with a baby in a stroller and sits near the pork bun woman, with the baby facing in her direction. This kid locks eyes with the woman, and stares enraptured as she stares directly back while eating the last bits of her pork bun. This baby and I are both in awe of her as she licks her lips and eats the last crumbs from the paper that was on the bottom of the bun, the paper which she has been holding crumpled in her palm for this very purpose. No longer captivated by salivating pork buns, the baby falls asleep while clutching their moms hand. The pork bun lady continues to chat with her friend, and they gesture towards the sleeping baby with half smiles. The pork bun lady grabs the attention of the mom, and points at the sleeping child. Pork bun lady doesn’t seem to speak the same language as the mom, and at first the mom simply smiles to accept what seems to be a compliment about her sleeping angel. Then the pork bun lady points excitedly at the blanket draping the stroller handle bar, then gestures to the sleeping babe as if to say “mommy you should wrap the blanket around them so they can sleep more peacefully on this hectic bus.” The mom looked at the blanket and realized what the pork bun lady was trying to say, nodded her head and smiled in appreciation as she draped the blanket over her kid. The pork bunt lady nodded approvingly as she tugged the blanket to cover the kids bare socked feet. The little kid continued sleeping peacefully under their soft fuzzy blue blanket while the three women smiled and nodded at each other. We approached my stop and I could hear pleasant chatters of a language unknown to me by these two good friends as I stepped off the bus onto a sidewalk in the Mission.

Story Time

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