The 71L Noriega
©2007 by Annabelle A. Udo
Chevron Gas Prices o' the Day (19th Avenue)
$3.19
$3.29
$3.39
The aroma on the 71L Noriega bus started off faint—a familiar smell that quickly evolved into a strong, unfriendly stench. Still, it remained vague what it was and from where it was originating. It gave me bad flashbacks of a boy in elementary school whose odor was that of a Big Mac —not the best thing when at the time I loved eating Big Macs. It was easier then to separate myself from such odoriferous associations and still enjoy a burger. Meanwhile, the bus ride back was herky jerky and it was this haphazard driving that made me more nauseous than the scent itself of San Francisco’s public transportation. The commute home was long and unpleasant with one grumbling passenger boarding after another. Oh, the end of the day grumpiness. Suddenly the pollution was that of psychological disdain and of course, the mysterious perfume wafting through the aisles even with all the windows open. I decided to hop on the bus versus the subway because the sky was painted with an afterglow of a beautiful afternoon and I didn’t want to miss it by being underground. The price I had to pay for what was supposed to have been a pleasant ride home.
Chevron Gas Prices o' the Day (19th Avenue)
$3.19
$3.29
$3.39
The aroma on the 71L Noriega bus started off faint—a familiar smell that quickly evolved into a strong, unfriendly stench. Still, it remained vague what it was and from where it was originating. It gave me bad flashbacks of a boy in elementary school whose odor was that of a Big Mac —not the best thing when at the time I loved eating Big Macs. It was easier then to separate myself from such odoriferous associations and still enjoy a burger. Meanwhile, the bus ride back was herky jerky and it was this haphazard driving that made me more nauseous than the scent itself of San Francisco’s public transportation. The commute home was long and unpleasant with one grumbling passenger boarding after another. Oh, the end of the day grumpiness. Suddenly the pollution was that of psychological disdain and of course, the mysterious perfume wafting through the aisles even with all the windows open. I decided to hop on the bus versus the subway because the sky was painted with an afterglow of a beautiful afternoon and I didn’t want to miss it by being underground. The price I had to pay for what was supposed to have been a pleasant ride home.
posted by Filipina Veritas at 11:42 PM
