Don’t squeeze the Sunbeam!

The Route 10 bus home is often crowded. There have been days when the previous bus doesn’t arrive and everyone, their brother, and mother are packed like Japanese businessmen on a subway train. (Check out YouTube, I’m sure there are all sorts of videos on this topic.) On these days, I hang ten because I stand in the aisle and “surf” my way home.

Last Monday, the bus was busy, but not hang ten busy. I was able to find a seat nestled between a pole and an older gentleman cradling a shopping bag. As people exited the bus and personal space was reclaimed, the gentleman and I began to talk…he just didn’t want me to squish his Sunbeam bread. In fact, he gave the meticulously wrapped package its own seat and watched it as if he was a mother hen observing her chicks.

I don’t blame him. There’s nothing worse than smashed bread. Well, there’s soggy bread, but soggy bread can dry out. Smashed bread never recovers. Never. Part of the joy in eating fresh bread is reveling in its soft, white fluffiness. It’s like being a kid again. It’s innocence.

During our ride together, I learned that he was a widower and his wife worked at the then Bank One Building. He was going home (with his bread) after a long day, which started at 3:30 AM. By the time we spoke, it was creeping dangerously close to 5:30 PM. He was tired. I could see it in his eyes and the way his slouched slightly in his seat. It probably wouldn’t be long before he was safely tucked into bed, but not before he enjoyed a sandwich made with his Sunbeam bread.