One of the first people I ever noticed when I started riding Route 21 was Crackhead Lady. Every morning she would get on the bus at a stop near a hobo camp and try to convince the bus driver that she had permission to ride the bus at a discount. Every morning the bus driver would patiently explain that the letter she held was not what she needed to get the discounted fair. The two of them would perform this dance with great precision. I always felt like I should clap when they were done.
Crackhead Lady disappears for long periods of time, so whenever there's a sighting I go into NatGeo mode. I feel like her vitals should be recorded. Maybe there should be a collar to track her movements like a big cat through the urban jungle. I spotted her yesterday at lunchtime , on the street, in a neighborhood a few blocks off Route 21. She looked heavier than she did this time last year. Last year's drought had been very difficult.
I thought about Crackhead Lady last night when I went to bed. It was raining so hard that it wasn't fit for man or beast outside. I prayed that God would keep Crackhead Lady safe. Then I prayed that He would take these piece of crap eyes of mine, and teach me to see differently.
See you on Route 21.
Route 21 is a real bus route. It's one of the longest in the city. Sure it connects me from the casa to the workplace, but it also connects me to a great deal more.
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