Buses— at least the ones they use here— have certainly changed since the last time I was on one. For one thing they have lower floors, which means the wheel wells take up much of the space that could once be devoted to seating. This was a full sized bus, but had about eight fewer seats than the ones I used to ride in Los Angele. I sort of missed the exercise of climbing the steps, but I suppose at my age I should not be looking that particular gift horse in the mouth.
The simple fare box has been replaced by an elaborate contraption that takes both coins and bills, and has a scanner that reads cards (monthly passes, I assume) and paper tickets and transfers. The bus is also equipped with an electronic sign, like a smaller version of the news thing they have had in Times Square forever, featuring a crawl giving the time and then the name of the upcoming stop. This sits just below the ceiling at the front of the bus, and with my eyesight I wouldn't have been able to read it (might not even have seen it) unless I'd been sitting near the front myself. When someone presses the device you use to request a stop, the sign reads "Stop Requested" so that the hard of hearing will know that the bell rang.
The drivers, however, are about as sullen and cranky as they ever were, and the passengers as morose and unhappy looking. There were fewer passengers than on the buses in Los Angeles, though, at least at the time of day I was riding, so it was much less like riding in a tumbrel on the way to the guillotine than I remember it being in L.A..
I only got moderately wet in the mostly soft rain, and didn't have to wait very long either going or coming back. I wouldn't want to use the bus to go shopping on a regular basis, though, since carrying bags full of heavy stuff is not kind to my ever-more-cranky neck. It's good to know that using them won't be too much trouble, though, and it isn't extremely expensive since I get the old-coot-at-death's-door discount. 75 cents, each way, and I could get a geezer day pass allowing unlimited rides for two bucks. Something to remember in case I ever get really, really bored around here, which I surely will at some point.
The Internets didn't provide me with much entertainment today, and no news about my cats, so it's just as well I had something else to do. I also did laundry, and made a pot of chili for dinner which didn't turn out very well— unfortunate, considering that there's a lot of it left over. I used to make some decent chili, but I didn't have quite the right ingredients this time. That's my excuse, don't try to talk me out of it.
The flipper/landlords are showing another prospective buyer the property tomorrow
and want me to be here between one and one thirty. Why, I don't know. Maybe they fear that if they show the place without me in it the prospective buyers would refuse to believe anyone would pay the outrageous rent. Anyway it makes me feel like I'm part of the staging. I'd be surly to the Realtor, and pick my nose in front of the prospective landlords, if it weren't for the fact that I won't miss the invisible partner with the Russian name when he sells the place. Since I know absolutely nothing about him but his name I imagine him being one of those sneaky Russians who makes pee tapes. Allegedly. With luck I'll never know for sure.