From Seattle: "Dunk Tank," by Richard Isherman

I hopped on the shiny silver and red “C” line bus this morning and, because I have been so long absent, was unsure of what I might find. Or who. I cast about for familiar faces and, despite the crowd, everyone is new to me. Almost immediately, my attention is drawn to one of these new faces. He’s probably in his middle thirties and appears to be soaking wet. (Read more here.)

From San Francisco: "Best overheard MUNI conversation ever this week," by Matt Pine

A nicely dressed 40-something woman is riding the MUNI talking into her phone.

“Listen, I’m trying to move blocks around and schedule meetings.”

[…] — that means she listening to words I can’t hear, because that’s how phones work.

“Just how much coffee have you had?”

[…]

(Read the rest here.)

From Phoenix: "When a bus turns into a buss," by Dolores Tropiano for the Arizona Republic

"Find Your Match Month" has special meaning for several Phoenix residents.

The campaign is designed to help bring people together for alternative forms of commuting.

Allie Johnson of Phoenix actually met her husband Ben on Phoenix Bus Route No. 27.

He was driving the bus.

(Read more here.)

From Portland, Oregon: "A Heart of Pharmaceutical Grade Purity," by nicareeno

I swear, the nearly silent battleweariness that fills a Max train in the morning sometimes makes me wish Bob Hope would come back from the grave and do a set for the troops.

But there I was, and there we all were, not a spark of life in the whole car, except for one guy.  The situation was hopeless, the phenomenal sameness, the extraordinary absence of contact among riders.  Except for this one loose deuce.

(Read more here.)