It's Saturday the 26th and the iPhone says we have 26 minutes to wait for the 26 Valencia bus. This is the kind of magic we have always associated with the 26 Valencia, the bus line of which we are most inordinately fond. It's not like the 14 Mission, which we need, or the 33 Stanyan, which we respect, or the 38 Geary, which we fear (in a Jean-Paul Sartre, No Exit kind of way).
Continue reading "26-26-26 Valencia"
