Muni and Me

We rode Muni for the first time today--his first time, I should say. And perhaps the first time for me since he was born, though I'm not sure about that.

We got on at 9th and Judah. Before getting on the train, we heard a man singing and shouting all the way up the street--"Oh great, a crazy person for my son's first Muni ride," I thought--and sure enough, the tall, lanky man with headphones on boarded the same car we did. I took the seat nearest the driver, the one that has to be vacated when senior citizens and disabled people want to sit there; the man sat in the first two-person seat facing the front. "Yeah, how you doin' man," he kept saying; I had the sinking feeling he was talking to my son. The next thing I knew, he'd placed a dollar bill in my little boy's hand.

I felt something like amused irritation, with a touch of fear as well--"He doesn't need money," I said, making a feeble attempt to give it back to the man. He raised his hands or something similar; I realized he was just trying to be friendly in his way, and was trying to connect with perhaps the only person on the streetcar who wouldn't mind his intrusion. A couple sat down next to us with their two young children, and two more dollar bills made their way into the hands of each of these kids. Then the man whipped out his military i.d. card and talked to one of the children, the older boy, about being in the Marines.

"Just another day on the Muni" I thought, remembering well how common such incidents are for daily riders. "Good experience for the kid." But I felt a bit depressed about it just the same.

On the trip back, the bars that connect the Muni to an electric cable just suddenly bounced off--as frequently happens--and the driver had to call for help; we walked the last two blocks.

All in all, an authentic Muni experience.