Two of my closest friends recently had kids (again), which, as David Cross says, is rude. I made a date to visit the friend who lives in the Excelsior and decided that, instead of taking a cab, I’d take public transportation. I didn’t realize she lives within walking distance of a BART station, so I ended up taking three buses.
That morning I took the 83X down Eighth Street. A twentysomething jumped on and, as the bus pulled away, realized he’d jumped on the wrong bus. But the 83X doesn’t stop until Brannan.
“Can you just let me off here?” he asked the driver at a stoplight. We were in the center lane in a bunch of traffic. The driver shook his head.
“Jesus,” said the kid. The driver was quiet but then, trying to be helpful, explained in broken English where he could stop. Way down there.
As we started to move, the kid said sarcastically, “What about here? What about here?”
“Leave him alone,” I said. “It’s not his fault. He can’t let you off.”
The kid, from under layers of sweatshirts and a backpack and a knit cap, turned his enormous girth toward me and said, “You don’t have to be a bitch about it.”
Later that afternoon, on my way to my friend’s house, I realized the bus I’d boarded was going to be the first of three. I hopped off at an intersection near the Cow Palace. A woman in a pink sweatshirt carrying a cane asked me where I was going. She needed help finding her way, so I pulled out my phone to try to figure out which line she should take.
Apparently I was taking too long.
“I asked you where you were going, bitch,” she said.
I looked up. I put my phone away.
“If you want help with directions, you’re going to have to be nice,” I said.
“Bitch!” she said again. She raised her cane above her head. I jumped back.
“Are you going to hit me with your cane?” I cried, because that seemed like the logical thing to ask.
We kept our distance until another bus came. As it turned out, we both had to get off at the same stop again. When the third bus came, I climbed on. But as we pulled away I heard a voice yell, “Wait!” I turned in my seat and saw the woman running after the bus, which, naturally, did not wait for her, as MUNI buses wait for no man. But just as I recognized her, she caught my eye. I turned around fast. I may have been on a bus moving in the opposite direction, but all I could think was that if she in any way thought I was gloating she would find a way to beat me to death with her cane.
Lesson: Do not visit friends who are rude enough to have kids!
This granola is from a handwritten recipe from my best friend from the eighth grade, who lives with her husband and two daughters on a farm in South Dakota. They just bought llamas. LLAMAS. I’ve been threatening to move in with them since 2007, when I spent the summer interning on her organic farm after I filed for divorce. It’s pretty much dessert for breakfast, which everyone deserves after being called a bitch twice in one day.
Recipe For: Granola
From the Kitchen of: Kristianna & Nick
- 6 C oatmeal
- 1 C wheatgerm
- 1 C coconut
- 1 C sunflower seeds (raw)
- 1 C peanut oil
- 1 C honey
- 1 C sesame seeds (untoasted)
- Options: dates, raisins, currents or other dried fruit
- Can also add peanut butter w/the honey & oil
Mix all the ingredients. Honey will mix better if heated, or if added w/the oil. Spread on pans and bake until brown at 300. May need to stir or flip the mixture to get all sides brown. About 10-15 min. pre side.