1) On the Caltrain last week, I managed to sit behind a man and a woman who spent the whole ride exchanging prescription meds.
They seemed to be in their late 40s. The guy was white, and the woman possibly Philipina. She had one of those smoked-a-billion cigarettes voices and was clearly on something that made her really hyper. At the top of her lungs, she extolled the virtues of Percocet and Oxycontin.
At one point, I noticed her peeking at me through the crack between the seats (I had put on my headphones with the hopes of drowning them out). She had dropped her water bottle apparently. Instinctively I thought, Be nice to the crazy lady, and looked under my seat. No water bottle.
“Oh, I must have recycled the wrong one!” she said excitedly.
When she finally deboarded, she was such a mess, she ended up dropping a couple of tea bags, except they were not tea. Then I saw the guy’s backpack was FILLED with prescription bottles. Classy.
2) On the bus yesterday, a white, dowdy middle-aged couple talked loudly about BDSM the whole ride.
“When I tied someone up, I like to use. . .”
“I wouldn’t do it in the yard. I wouldn’t do it outside.”
I couldn’t hear everything they said, but enough snippets to feel really embarrassed (so call me a prude) and relieved when they got off the bus.
3) Down the street there are a pair of crapped-in jeans. They are as disgusting as they sound. They’ve been there a few days, and I keep forgetting not to walk on that side of the street.
Only in San Francisco.