I now take the bus everywhere. It's weird how no one ever told me that busses go everywhere you need to go anyway. Now I have a Clipper Card, I know how the back doors work, I have a bus buddy.
It would seem that the universe has rewarded me for finally appreciating public transportation. I had to move my car the other day, desperate to find a "Tuesday spot." See, if you move your car to the Tuesday Street Cleaning side of the street immediately after Tuesday street cleaning, you've got a whole week of not having to move your car.
On Tuesday, I drove all over my neighborhood. Block after block, there was nothing. I found a couple of Thursday side of the street spots. But I take the bus now. I really needed a Tuesday spot.
A couple of blocks away, I slowed down thinking I had seen an open spot. Alas, it was a driveway. A woman walked out of it, and motioned for me to roll down my window.
"You can park here." She said.
"You can park in my driveway." It was a lovely driveway, a nice looking house. "We don't have a car."
I looked over each shoulder, thinking this was some sort of cruel joke, like in Carrie, but about parking, which is even meaner. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah, it's no problem." She had this long set of circumstances as to why I could park there, right then, and how I could just be halfway in her driveway and her friend could park in the other half. We'd somehow get two parking spaces out of none. It seemed risky to me, but my God. It is the fantasy of every San Francisco driver for someone to emerge from a RESIDENTIAL DRIVEWAY and say, "Here you go. All yours."
Naturally, I made a huge, gushing deal about the whole thing. I tried to give her my phone number, I kept repeating my address. "I can come move it any time. I'll probably need it on Thursday anyway. I'd hate for you to need your garage."
She kind of shooed me away with her hand. "Relax, Beth!"
"Okay Cruz, thank you so much."
Coming back from work last night, I decided to move my car to a Thursday spot. I didn't want to overstay my welcome blocking Cruz's driveway. I half-expected Rhonda the Honda to be towed anyway. Cruz's offer seemed too good to be true.
Lo and behold, everything was fine. My car was there, untouched. I felt like I'd gotten away with a crime!
Now, all because I take the bus, I know that I have a very sweet neighbor. A neighbor who might one day, and that day may never come, call upon me for a favor Godfather-style...