Kitty Corner

“Is this the way to Powell Station?” intenders ask as I open the door.  I tell them they need to take the bus in the other direction. This question gets asked often at Steiner and Hayes across from the Painted Ladies at Alamo Square. They have arrived at the park from the crosstown 22 Fillmore or 24 Divisadero, and are not familiar with where to stand. “Just wait over there,”  I jest, knowing from experience that it won’t help. 

Pointing to the rear of the coach and telling them to cross to the other side to go inbound, results in a polite smiles of thanks, but when I pull away, seven of ten times, they walk in the wrong direction, or stand transfixed, looking to ask again. 

Most United States born and raised folks get it when I say, “Kitty-corner.” Not so with visitors unfamiliar with our common US phrases. The blank stare I receive means I did not get through. Back to geometry class: “The opposite adjacent angles, are not only congruent, by going the other way, but on the oblique corner .”  If this doesn’t compute, then I need to be willing to pop the brake, step down on the sidewalk, and point like a hound dog’s tail right next to them, so there is no doubt. It may not be the patience in stalled traffic that is the hardest trait to master as an operator, but being gentle in answering repetitive questions throughout the day, world without end! Getting my ass out of the seat solves so many problems so fast, I would do well to get the concrete out of my britches, for when I do, my legs give thanks, and I am energized to be in service mode.

This would never happen on Market Street or at Kearny because of a desire to get out of the zone as soon as possible. More runners are coming from the underground and any delay at the door means rear doors that won’t close, pickpockets can flourish, and other trolleys will back up from behind on Third Street.  We gotta go.

Not true on the 21 Hayes, mostly. God bless the Muni lines that still give us time to chat and not shut the door and rush away. At Union Square, however, a large visitor group can throw off the beats to pull away from the curb, and I have to keep it short and simple. Our perceived rudeness is not a personal affront.  It is because of the beats of the traffic, and holding back other trolleys or streetcars behind us in the queue. Cyclists are moving in a pack from the last light at a speed too fast for lane change judgment by motorists. The rails, when wet, can become deadly. The front wheel of a bike fits nicely into the groove and all bike momentum in the front stops.

The simplest way to convey kitty corner then, is to say, “You must cross both streets behind me and wait on the other side of this street.  Choosing Zen to Happy Destiny means I can remain gentle knowing my work is never done. And shall be done again. And again. World without end. Amen.