Scenes from the Bus
Oct. 10th, 2005 08:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aamusedinatxThe blind leading the living.
Her name is Lori and she rides with her guide dog, a black lab. Lori is a perpetually happy, bouncy sort of person. A large woman, she has a particular bobble to her steps as she walks along lead by her guide dog. She smiles a lot and is friendly when people talk to her. If they don't strike up conversation however, she is quiet. We get off at the same stop almost every morning. I cross the street to await a connecting bus while they head to BART for the next leg of their journey. As has happened a couple of times in the past. I stood waiting for the light to change and felt a nose at the back of my knee and then Lori accidentally brushing against me. I think her dog, who is six and has been a guide dog for years now, simply is intrigued by the smell of my animals on me. She apologized and I laughed it off and said good morning. We've talked before, briefly, and she knows my voice.
They head down to BART while I stand in the light pre-dawn morning and wait. I notice a man coming up the sidewalk from BART with his hand on the arm of a near-staggering homeless man.
This is Gary. Gary is blind and uses a cane. Gary has never met a stranger and is the most perpetually cheerful, without being so irritating you want to strangle him, man I've ever met. He has about him a sense of personal contentment and confidence that makes him so utterly open and human. He will say hello to anyone, refers to all people as sir or madam, never fail to ask their name, and then ask if they will help him get over to Lee's donut shop before he has to catch his bus. I have seen the most violent of the regular homeless people, the foaming at the mouth angry lunatics become solicitious and docile boy scouts (or girl scouts) as they walk with him down 40th. You never ever get the sense that he feels in any way vulnerable by his lack of sight. This morning, he is on the arm of a tall, staggering, rail thin black man with filthy clothes that barely stay on his thin frame. His face is ravaged with despair and yet his voice, as he talks to Gary is tender and hopeful. "Boy, I wish I could find some work..." he sighs softly.
"Orlando, tell me, what is it you used to do? What do you love doing?"
They turn and cross the street to head to the donut shop and Orlando's answer is lost to me across the street noise and rising wind. I wait idle in the growing sunshine. I see the bus at the stop down the street and began to think that Gary isn't going to make this one. I watch as he and his companion, Orlando, re-emerge from the donut shop. They're stopped by the light and crossing traffic. I look down 40th and notice that the bus has not yet left its stop. Gary arrives safely on our corner just as the bus pulls up. He takes a genuinely fond farewell of Orlando who assures him his bus is there with the door open directly in front.
"Morning Gary, a few people coming off first," I say.
"How are you this morning? My God, it's a beautiful day so far, isn't it?!"
He gets off only two stops down the street. As he says, he's just lazy and he likes taking the bus. He always stands to ride as the bus is often crowded. He has a great sense of balance and physical grace.
I arrived at work today in a relatively good mood thanks to Lori and Gary.
Her name is Lori and she rides with her guide dog, a black lab. Lori is a perpetually happy, bouncy sort of person. A large woman, she has a particular bobble to her steps as she walks along lead by her guide dog. She smiles a lot and is friendly when people talk to her. If they don't strike up conversation however, she is quiet. We get off at the same stop almost every morning. I cross the street to await a connecting bus while they head to BART for the next leg of their journey. As has happened a couple of times in the past. I stood waiting for the light to change and felt a nose at the back of my knee and then Lori accidentally brushing against me. I think her dog, who is six and has been a guide dog for years now, simply is intrigued by the smell of my animals on me. She apologized and I laughed it off and said good morning. We've talked before, briefly, and she knows my voice.
They head down to BART while I stand in the light pre-dawn morning and wait. I notice a man coming up the sidewalk from BART with his hand on the arm of a near-staggering homeless man.
This is Gary. Gary is blind and uses a cane. Gary has never met a stranger and is the most perpetually cheerful, without being so irritating you want to strangle him, man I've ever met. He has about him a sense of personal contentment and confidence that makes him so utterly open and human. He will say hello to anyone, refers to all people as sir or madam, never fail to ask their name, and then ask if they will help him get over to Lee's donut shop before he has to catch his bus. I have seen the most violent of the regular homeless people, the foaming at the mouth angry lunatics become solicitious and docile boy scouts (or girl scouts) as they walk with him down 40th. You never ever get the sense that he feels in any way vulnerable by his lack of sight. This morning, he is on the arm of a tall, staggering, rail thin black man with filthy clothes that barely stay on his thin frame. His face is ravaged with despair and yet his voice, as he talks to Gary is tender and hopeful. "Boy, I wish I could find some work..." he sighs softly.
"Orlando, tell me, what is it you used to do? What do you love doing?"
They turn and cross the street to head to the donut shop and Orlando's answer is lost to me across the street noise and rising wind. I wait idle in the growing sunshine. I see the bus at the stop down the street and began to think that Gary isn't going to make this one. I watch as he and his companion, Orlando, re-emerge from the donut shop. They're stopped by the light and crossing traffic. I look down 40th and notice that the bus has not yet left its stop. Gary arrives safely on our corner just as the bus pulls up. He takes a genuinely fond farewell of Orlando who assures him his bus is there with the door open directly in front.
"Morning Gary, a few people coming off first," I say.
"How are you this morning? My God, it's a beautiful day so far, isn't it?!"
He gets off only two stops down the street. As he says, he's just lazy and he likes taking the bus. He always stands to ride as the bus is often crowded. He has a great sense of balance and physical grace.
I arrived at work today in a relatively good mood thanks to Lori and Gary.
