Monday: Home from Sacramento and San Jose/Roaring Camp Railroad

Monday was long. I woke up at 5:45 to get my room cleared out; I had to take my sheets down to the front desk. I walked the couple of blocks to the Amtrak station, and bought myself the Mocha I’d been craving all week but hadn’t wanted to spend money on. It did not live up to expectations, leaving a chalky and unflavored warm milk taste in my mouth. It was, however, a warm drink, and it was cold outside. Sacramento had been experiencing “rain,” which was really just mist or a vague sprinkle.  We’re not talking Romantic-Comedy-kiss-in-the-rain rain here. They were very upset about it though, and it was a big topic of conversation for locals.

My trip back on Amtrak was fine from Sacramento to San Jose. I sat on the same side of the car, so I got to see all of the stuff I missed on the way down (the fact that I can do that flip in my head will matter later on). Once I got out at San Jose, I had to get across town to my rental car. I was driving up into the mountains to Roaring Camp Railroad, and car rentals right next to the Amtrak were like $80 a day or some absurd number. Rachel and I figured that it wouldn't be too much for a taxi to take me 5 miles, so I got out $20 cash in case they didn't do cards and went in search.

The first guy at the taxi stand said he could take me, and we got on our way. We’d gone a mile when I looked at the price: $5.90. It was ticking up, too, because we were sitting in traffic. His rates were written on the door: a base of $3 something, and then .30 every ¼ mile thereafter. I got nervous and was having trouble with the math, so I asked him if he took credit cards, “Because I only have $20 cash. So if this is going over that, I need to get out.” I gave a little laugh because I thought $15 was an absurd amount, and the cabbie said, “Oh yeah, it’s definitely going over $20. We’re going on the freeway. I mean, I can take you to an ATM.” I wasn’t sure if he was taking me for a ride or what, because I was pretty sure you could get there without the freeway, and it certainly looked like he had a machine to swipe credit cards sitting right there on his dashboard, but I just told him to take me to this one bus stop. He said, “This is that bus stop,” and lo, we were at the intersection I needed! So I gave the guy $8 and got out, since it sucked that he only drove like a mile and possibly missed out on a better fare. I got into the bus shelter—oh my, the rain was coming down in actual drops, not just mist form—and stood for a few, as my phone was telling me a bus would be coming in about three minutes. I wanted the 23 West bound. Never mind I was standing at the 68 northbound spot. I was sure that just meant that the 68 usually stopped there, and the 23 must not have a regular stop. So when the 23 stopped at the light right next to me, I expected it to turn right and come pick me up at the bus shelter.  So when it when straight through the light and stopped at the bus shelter across the street from me, I was justifiably confused. I started running to catch it, and I don’t know if the guy saw me running or what, but he waited at the stop for a few minutes, and left right after I got on. I thought I was really lucky and I was happy to be on my bus. Yes, it was going to take close to 35 minutes to get to my rental now, but I had worked that time into my schedule. Until I realized we were heading East.

I wasn’t sure at first. I was following along on my google map, and I thought that maybe it was just taking a new route, maybe because of construction downtown. I remembered that San Francisco had rerouted a lot of routes during their construction, and we were kind of going in the right direction, so I had to be on the right bus. About 5 or 6 stops in, I finally accepted I was going the wrong way. I had to go up to the driver and ask, but at least I didn’t stick it out forever.

So I waited for the next bus at the stop that I got out on. However, I didn’t cross the street. So as I stood there, it occurred to me that any bus that came to this stop would also be heading East. I’d like to say this occurred to me quickly. It did not. I’m pretty sure I missed at least one West Bound bus while I worked through that little ditty in my head.

Once I finally got on my correct bus, I had about a fifty minute ride ahead of me. I was good, although frazzled and frustrated and stressed, but I was on a bus, I was moving, I was going in the right direction, and eventually I’d get where I’d need to go. A few stops after I got on, an older man with a big pot belly and a long beard got on and sat in the seats reserved for the elderly and the handicapped, so he was facing into the bus. Since I didn’t want to stare, or look at him directly, I used the corner of my eyes and filled in the rest, and now I imagine him to look like a grungy Santa. He had a cup of coffee with him, which I know because I saw it out of the corner of my eye. I also watched him lick the cup a few times. The whole cup. Not just the lid, or a little dripdrop. The whole cup. After every sip he took, he gave a huge AHHHHH, like that was perhaps the most delicious drink he had, and would ever have, again. He did this many, many times, as it appears his coffee was completely full when he got on the bus. He talked loudly, as that one person on the bus always seems to. After ten or fifteen minutes, a seat opened up behind me.  There was an older Asian lady sitting in it.

“Can I sit next to you?” the man asked.  There was also a seat open next to me, but it was occupied by my backpack, so for a second I was panicked that he was talking to me.

“What?”  the Asian lady said.

“Can I sit next to you?” he asked again.

“Oh, no,” she said.

“I can’t sit next to you?” he said, surprised that she said no.

The Asian lady said something unintelligible.

“I can sit next to you?” he said, starting to gather his stuff.

“Yes, yes,” the Asian lady said. I’m not sure if she had been confused by his initial question, or if she gave in to his surprise at being told she wanted to sit alone (or at least not with him). He moved all of himself and his stuff, which I imagine looked like a bag of presents, but might have just been a big bag of laundry, maybe, or not a big bag at all. Once behind me, he started explaining why he was on the bus.

“Yeah, the lady shortchanged me. She owes me ten dollars. I thought she was giving me too much change yesterday, so I gave her ten back, but then I looked and I realized I shouldn’t have, so I’m going to get my ten dollars back. I really like shopping there. They’re really good. But I just need my ten dollars back.”

This continued for the next several stops, with he and the Asian Lady discussing the discount store that owed him money, and how it was good, and how ten dollars was really a lot, and the other places they would shop, and that he needed his ten dollars. Mostly it was him talking, but the Asian lady was very nice and seemed to actually engage in his conversation.

Once they got off, the bus was a lot quieter.