BUStin' a move

Aside from Kermit the Frog, I have very few arch nemeses. This past Friday, however, I have come across one more: the bus system. To preface, I have a very poor sense of direction...I can literally walk out of a store in the mall and walk the same way I had just come from for quite a while until I realize I was just there. It's that bad.

Anyway, on Friday I woke up early so my co-worker could take me into work because I was going to meet up with my cousins, friends, boyfriend, etc. at the Giants game. After a long day at work anxiously awaiting the game, it was finally 5:30 and time to go. My co-worker, again, took me to Civic Center and unleashed me to take public transportation the rest of the way. In a conversation with a very city-savvy employee before I left, I was also told that I could take the #49 bus to a spot near AT&T Park...so, against my better judgement (because taking a bus that I haven't taken before scares me), that is what I did.

As I sat on the bus, things got a little weird. I sat through the entire Mission district, which I do not like and sat next to a gentleman holding a guitar and wearing no shirt...needless to say, it was an unpleasant experience. After about 15 minutes, I felt that I was going in the wrong direction, so I asked the bus driver if we were headed toward AT&T Park. The conversation went like this:

Me: Are we going to AT&T Park? Or anywhere near it? Like can I walk there from somewhere you stop?

Driver: Yes.

Me: OK. Awesome...cause it sort of seems like we are going away from where I need to be.

Driver: No, it's good.

Me: OK.

So, maybe I should have said a little more. Or maybe I should have never gotten on the bus at all. But, hey...you live and you learn right.

30 minutes later I find myself at the Bart station like 5 minutes from my house (across town from where I want to be, by the way). So, (like any adult would do) I start to cry. And not just like one glistening tear down my cheek - I am talking a full-on cry. After Eric talks me into not crying all night, I hop onto Bart and jump in a cab...problem solved in 20 minutes flat. (So, the moral of the story may be that San Francisco is awesome and you can get anywhere really fast, but I'm not that positive of a person).

OK, so I guess I overreacted a bit. I met up with Eric, drank a beer very fast and was at the game 5 minutes after the first pitch. Still, I hate the bus system. And until I take the time to learn the routes, I will still blame them.