Newbie

I made sure I got on the correct cable car line tonight. Powell-Hyde. Not Powell-Mason.

Surprisingly, I was on the car with the same fare collector that I’ve ridden with several times. I’m always going home at different times; I’m amazed our schedules have coincided so frequently. He’s an elderly man with a tired grey mustache. He has droopy brown eyes always fixed with a vacant stare. I usually sit on the end seat, so I watch him interact with the other passengers. Tourists constantly ask him questions. Usually, he answers, not verbosely, but sufficiently. Tonight, however, he wanted no part of the tourists and their questions.

“Do I get off at this stop or the next if I want to go to the Ritz?” a tourist asked, somewhat condescendingly.

Without skipping a beat, the fare collector continued to stare straight ahead and answered, “I don’t know. It’s my first day on the job…”