Walked out to the street in front of my house this morning shortly after 4:30.The pavement was covered with that fuzzy frost you sometimes see on car windshields.
Not ideal conditions for predawn bike riding. So I took the bus.
Today's driver, a friendly and competent woman, is kind enough to call out some of the intersections as we approach. The thing is, it is impossible to understand her.
It is easy to pretend that you are on a bus in some distant land, listening to a driver speaking a language other than English.
I blame the microphone and speakers. Because that driver is often comprehensible one-on-one.
But a couple of today's intersections were “Sabbatha and ConCon” and “LinkedIn and Fortesque.”
Or at least that's how it sounded.
Maybe my ears are the problem.