This is exactly the sort of entry that I perceive as “you”—the personalization of a fellow bus rider...your thoughts, your perceptions, your observations, your feelings. I found your storytelling fascinating when I first discovered your blog almost a year ago when I read a post about a woman you observed on the bus; I am equally enthralled today. Thank you for reminding me of how I discovered a new (and dear) friend.

If you were ever a witness to a crime. I can only imagine the glee that the sketch artist would feel as they took down your description. Unless something is glaringly obvious I rarely notice it. I’m not so much a details person as I am a let’s get this the heck over person. :-)

I’m always struck by the folks that are possibly homeless but haven’t given in completely to the street.  Their struggle to maintain some dignity, some sense of normalcy, some connection with the non-homeless.  One of the things I always think of when you write about your fellow bus riders is how desperate the poor and homeless are to be seen and simply acknowledged.  You see them...and you show them to us.  Thank you.

gorgeous.

yep, what everyone else has said.  like randa, i think of these “transit tales” as “dan’s writing voice.” they’re too raw to be beautiful and too beautiful to be edgy, so whatever’s left in between - that’s where i hear these stories.  thank you for writing them.

That was great.

You have balls, dude.  I see you sitting there with your bag at your seat, watching, ever watching, this man, scribbling in your little notebook.  I see this man watching you from behind his clip-on sunglasses watching him, suspecting that you have recognized him and that you are now going to report him to the “authorities.” He knows the bus route.  He waits each day at a different stop down the line, lurking in the shadows, until, one day next week, maybe, he watches you get off the bus.