A Day in the Life of Miami Public Transport

Rest assured dear readership, this post has nothing to do with organic skincare or recipes to keep skin supple and soft ~ it's a "late night rambling" on my part sharing moments that keep a smile on my face due to people I meet along my  way.   This post covers one bus ride on the #3 (running north and south on Biscayne Boulevard).  The following took place on a 15 minute bus ride: Side note: until recently I’ve always owned a car and often noticed folks sitting at bus stops and wondered “how long you been waiting”?  At times I would stop my car, offer rides only to be viewed as “rather odd” and no one ever accepted a ride except once in Coconut Grove when riding my scooter.  I noticed a rather large elderly Jamaican woman at a bus stop carrying heavy parcels and I pulled up and asked “want a ride”?  Much to my dismay she said “yes” and hopped on the back.  With her weight we were almost doing “a wheelie” but none-the-less I delivered her to her destination and we had a grand time.  (Never know who you're going to meet at a bus stop).  I should note that my scooter is a Honda Passport, the scooter Honda sent to Jamaica and the islands.  I trust she felt at home.  As I did ...   I’m rambling; let me get back to yesterday and the #3 heading north.   I got on the bus and at the next stop a Haitian woman got on along with a quiet Haitian man (they didn't appear to be together as she sat way in the back, he in the front opposite me).   As soon as the bus began to roll she began to speak loudly (very loudly) in Creole in what appeared to be a “testifying” manner.  She went on and on and every few minutes the man would silently whisper “yesssssss” which seemed to encourage her because she ramped up her volume and intensity.  I really have no clue if she was "testifying" or giving him hell but the "call and response" was lovely.  I do love me a call and response ... At the next stop an elder Caucasian woman got on dressed “head to toe” in red and white.  Glaring red and white.  She was wheeling one of those "back-packs on wheels" (that old ladies riding a bus haul their groceries and treasures in) and her rolling backpack was covered in huge (very huge) red and white polka dots.  Of course she sat next to me (I'm a magnet for audacious) and I said “I see that you like red” and she responded “I like to coordinate my outfits”.  I was momentarily at a loss for how best acknowledge an elder's pride in dressing to match her rolling backpack but soon noticed her "golf ball sized ring" and complimented her on her accessory and she whispered “I paid a dollar for this ring” (of course I said “it's lovely”).   During our ride I noticed she was fussing over her golf ball ring and bangle bracelets and began taking them on and off.  I asked "why" and she said "it may be too much".  I responded "oh no, they're lovely".  She put them back on and we rode on in polka dot and golf ball bliss. The next stop brought on an African American man carrying an Ironing board (I kid you not).  As Ms. Polka dot had vacated he sat next to me (no surprise there) and tried to stuff the Ironing board beneath our feet (it didn’t fit).  I said to him “gotta love a man that travels with an Ironing board”.  He turned and said “I love to iron, cook and clean".  He then went on to tell me he was a disabled Afghan Veteran, tortured (he wouldn’t tell me where or how) but that he loved to paint mountains but had never seen a mountain (of course I told him of the Hudson River Valley and Catskill mountains) but when he began to suggest all that he could provide with his ironing skills, I was pleased that Home Depot and Whole Foods was the next stop and I got off #3 smiling and grateful to those I met along the way. To my daughter (who I've embarrassed more times than we both care to remember) and always asks "why do you always speak to everyone"?  Well darling, if I don't speak to strangers I would never know their story, have a smile on my face or place a smile on theirs.  Long ago (before your time) Nina Simone sang "have we lost the human touch"?  Your mom refuses to lose the human touch.   Feel free to leave a comment and tell me of the strangers you met today.  I'd love to hear your story ...   Elise @ Mountain Spirit Botanicals

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