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  • I kind of love/hate the number 14 bus. It's slow, it's dirty, it's loud, and it smells bad. But when you need to go up and down Mission St., it gets the job done.

    Last night, I shared a ride downtown with a handful of kids passing around a flask, a kid that rolled a joint and smoked it out the window, a guy guarding his case of Coronas and playing loud music on a boombox, and a guy standing behind me conversing with the air.

    Even though I ride this line all the time, I must've looked wide-eyed and bewildered, camera at the ready. Maybe a little like a tourist, even. I'm thinking that's why Jesus looked up at me and smiled. "That's just San Francisco," he said.

    Jesus came from Chihuahua, Mexico, in the early 90s. His final destination was supposed to be Seattle, but he got hit by a freight train in Oakland and spent months in the hospital. He was never able to walk again but ended up falling in love with San Francisco. What about it do you love? I ask.

    Everything. The people, the buildings, the number 14 bus.
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