Ah, Baltimore!
Yesterday, I took a lady from our church to the hospital for some out-patient surgery. Nothing major, but it took for-bloody-ever. We got there at 10:10 and left the parking garage at 4:10.
I always come prepared for these things – book, knitting, crossword puzzle. There were two other people in the waiting room, and I managed to strike up a conversation with them. I never did get either of their names, but the gentleman was an architect who specialized in historic preservation. He knew both my brother-in-law, and the fellow who was the architect for our “new” church, and was also a member of The Engineers Club, also known as the Garret-Jacobs Mansion, where I had worked for several years. We knocked around names of folks who had worked there, and discussed the “Spindle Room”, which fascinated the lady from Atlanta. Mrs. Garrett would stand in her dressing room, behind this screen of spindles, where she could watch who was coming in and what the ladies were wearing, and then choose a dress to outdo them all.
The woman who was waiting was originally from Atlanta, and she said at first it “spooked” her when people would get on the bus and start “How’s your mother?”, “Do you like your new job?” the second they paid their fare. “It was just one big family reunion.” And then after about six months, she started seeing folks she recognized and began to join the conversations – “if only to say ‘hello’ to a face I recognize”.
Hang in there, kid, you’ll soon be a member of the family.
thisendoftheswamp 
When my mom used to commute into Seattle, the “regulars” used to hold birthday parties on the bus. Sometimes it seemed like they were the “third” family, after the family and the office.