(I am lined up with several other passengers, ready to leave the train)

Customer 1: Excuse me, excuse me.

(A guy, looking to be in his 20s, makes his way through the line until he reaches the front.)

Customer 1: Sir?

(He holds out a hat to the first person in line.)

Customer 1: I think you dropped this.

Customer 2: That was already there when I sat down. Thanks for your concern, though.

Customer 1: No problem.

(The guy turns around.)

Customer 1: Excuse me.

(He makes his way out of the line and sits back down.)

I had a doctor’s appointment because I have depression. My life is currently pretty bad, as I am unemployed, without a car, and am basically mooching off my parents — who have split, mind you — for money. It’s a rainy, very gray day. I’m staying at my aunt and uncle’s house, and I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. I’m hungry but won’t eat anything just because I don’t feel like it and I think of it as imposing on my aunt and uncle.

So, I have enough money to get the bus to go to the doctor, and my stomach is feeling incredibly empty. I’m absolutely regretting having not gotten something to eat because of my own stupidity and start thinking that maybe things would be better if I was dead. In other words, I am having a major depressive episode. I signal to get off the bus, only the stop I get off at is a short walk from the one in front of the doctor’s office, the one I had wanted to get off at. I’m now walking in the rain, mentally berating myself for having screwed up, when a guy comes by on his bike.

He’s got a pizza box and asks if I’m hungry. My first instinct is to say no, but then I stop and say yes. I take one slice of pizza and eat away, turning down his offer for more out of mere politeness. He even offers me the whole box but I still say no. One slice is enough. The guy informs me that he has done his good deed for the day and says, “God bless,” before riding off on his bike.

That guy completely changed me. That one man who offered me pizza when I was starving and feeling like my life wasn’t worth living gave me something precious: hope. He cared enough to make sure someone like me got something to eat because it was the right thing to do. Even now, thinking about it, I feel like crying that anyone could care that much as to help a random stranger at a bus stop. I’ve never seen this guy again, but I will always remember Pizza Bike Guy, who might have saved my life with one selfless act.

(It’s about 10:30 pm. My parents and I have just left the Giants game and have boarded a shuttle that takes us to our parking lot about two miles away. There are about fifteen other people on the bus. In the area around the ballpark, there’s a lot of construction, trying to revamp that area of the city and prepare for the America’s Cup coming up in a little over a month.)

Person: *getting on the bus* “Are you taking us back to where you picked us up before?”

Driver: “I’m sorry?”

Person: “Are you taking us back to where you picked us up before?”

Driver: “Where was that? I drop off at several places.”

Person: “You know, it’s a parking lot. You’re the one that picked us up!”

Driver: “Sir, I picked up hundreds of people before the game. I’m also dropping off at several parking lots. Which one was it?”

Person: “I don’t remember which one. It was the one next to construction, and between two buildings!”

(Just about everyone’s jaw drops, and my dad, who is sitting in the front row, puts his face in his hands.)

Driver: “Really? Did you really just say that?”

(I’m riding the bus home from work. A family with a small boy gets on and sits near the back. The boy proceeds to pull the cord between every stop, annoying both the passengers and the driver.)

Driver: “If you aren’t getting off at that stop, please do not pull the cord!”

(He pulls the cord again for the next stop. When the driver stops and nobody gets off, she speaks again.)

Driver: “Please don’t pull the cord unless it’s for your stop!”

(This repeats for the next couple stops. Finally, she picks up on who’s doing it.)

Driver: “Ma’am, sir, if he pulls the cord again, it’s going to be your stop.”

(Suddenly, the cord stopped being pulled.)

I commute to work via train, and the particular terminus also houses a major civic arena, which hosts 2 major sports teams and numerous concerts and other events.
One evening, I passed a trio of young ladies at the (event) ticket window. To get here they had to pass numerous signs that say “North Station”, “To Trains”, and “Commuter Rail”, as well as a large electronic signboard whereon are shown train departure times and gate numbers.
Observing commuters rushing by to get to their trains, one of them said:
“Why is everybody running?”