I see:

- a rather large woman who wears a yellow fleece jacket, on the westbound Central Line. The seat next to her is often vacant until it's the only one left, because it's a squeeze sitting next to her. She usually chats to other people who I assume she either works or travels with, but I've never really noticed what they look like.

- a very large woman, almost spherical, who gets off the Docklands Light Railway train that I usually get onto at my interchange. She's not much taller than me but probably at least 140lbs heavier.

- also on the DLR, a man on his way to work on the building sites (from the state of his clothes). He's in his 50s, brush-cut hair, a typical East London geezer, but he wears a Bulgari wedding ring, which is a surprise.

- on the way home I often see a man aged about 55, a well-built working class guy who reads romance novels.

- a young man gets the same Central Line train as I do in Stratford, and gets out at my station. He's Indian (or Pakistani, or Bangladeshi) and he always wears white trainers.

Just about every morning, I see this cute girl at the coffee stand where I get my morning coffee. She's always so perky, I wish I was more aware when she takes my order, because she asks me how "it's going" or something, and I can only manage a grunt or something. I want to say "Sorry I can't connect with you, I really want to but I'm super tired and I can't make out more than a grunt or two, please don't take that the wrong way!" She's so nice it's intimidating.

There was once a time where, after a succession of latte orders, she knew exactly what I wanted when my turn came up. But I had gotten cheap by then and was ordering drip coffee, I had broken the chain, now she has to ask me instead of "knowing."

There is also the girl I refer to as the "90's girl" who looks like a refugee from Seattle's grunge scene. She has short cut hair (or maybe she's shaved it all off) and large glasses. I would like to think she jams to the Pixies while editing an underground music zine, while drinking Zima. She too, makes my coffee.

My GP waits at the same bus stop that I do. It's a little weird--thankfully, we don't ride the same bus.

Two of my former next door neighbor ride my bus (surprise!). Once, we were all getting pedicures simultaneously. That was also weird.

There's a blonde woman who is so polished at 645 in the morning when it's 10 degrees outside that I think she must be an automaton. There's a granny-aged woman with a red coat and it makes me angry when I'm in the back of the standing room only bus and no-one in the priority seats gives her their seat. Turns out, she works in my office building. There's a Mr. Magoo man, who refuses when people offer him their seat. And an unusually short woman with a cane.

There's an incredibly handsome man, who sometimes has a suitcase, and reads the Economist. I never notice that any of the really pretty girls repeat. Once, though, I saw a young woman who looked so much like the older woman sitting behind her that I made up a whole story about how they were estranged mother and daughter in my head to pass the time, because I was standing and couldn't read.

A friend of mine from a job I used to have now rides the same bus I do. Sometimes he texts me from the back of the bus.

I transit by car. However, I see one car quite frequently. Not everyday, but I often have this car in my view as we putter along. Turns out that it belongs to a guy who works in the same building as me. He goes in the front, and I go in the back. I'm sure it's him because of the identifying bumper sticker on his car.

Haven't ever thougth to mention it - seems like it would be stalkerish. I've waved at him in the hallway at times. He comes and goes quite frequently since he's a real estate sales person.

I ride a train to work.

In the mornings there's a woman who works for the phone company (she wears her ID badge clipped to her clothes) who reminds me of my aunt back when she was in her 30s.

There's an extremely large man who wears a cowboy hat in the wintertime. Many years ago he'd ride a motorized scooter, obviously unable to walk. Then he started walking with a cane. Now he walks without the cane, though still with a little difficulty from the look of it. He never stands still, but paces up and down the entire length of the train platform while waiting for the train.

There's a couple who look to be in their late 50s or early 60s- he has a white beard and wears a hat kind of like this, and has small hearing aids in his ears. The woman has dark curly hair and always looks mischievous... something about the way she grins and sometimes giggles while talking to the man make me think she'd be a fun person to know. They both get on at my station, but get off at different places before I reach my stop downtown.

In the afternoons if I leave exactly on time, there's a gorgeous younger guy (late 20's to 30) who's either Italian or Latino, I can't tell which. He wears a denim jacket and usually has a bandanna on his head. I always make sure to sit where I can see him. ;)

Also in the afternoons there's a guy about my age, but completely white-haired, who has always looked incredibly familiar to me. I've decided that no, I don't know him from somewhere (and I've been seeing him for years), so he must remind me of someone else I've known. I wish I could remember who.

I'm a car person too. But every day when I roll into work, I see this blue Civic leaving the third gate. According to one of my coworkers, who sees this car up at the DD up the street, it's one of the lower level lab peons getting coffee for everyone.
I also know how late I am by where I pass the roach coach heading to the construction site. If I'm passing them as they turn into the complex, I'm late. If I pass them when I'm making my turn into our gate, I'm early.
I also get a giggle from the one car I sometimes get behind waiting for the left turn arrow who has a bumper sticker that says 'my other vehicle is unmanned.'

There's a long-haired girl who about every other day passes me going the other way as I head into the estate where I work, managing to read a book as she walks briskly past.

I read a lot, and use audiobooks, so I'm always tempted to try to talk to her, or at least bend down to look at the cover. However I'm considerably older and uglier than her, tend to scowl as I walk, and there's no way to make eye contact, so I'm pretty sure any attempt would just be seen as unbearably creepy.

Maybe I'm just jealous that I don't have that skill. Reading and walking (quickly, without falling over) would be the best improvement to my life ever.

Whoa, up to four years ago I used to get on the Central Line at Stratford too. I could have been essexjan's transit buddy...

I waited at the bus stop across from one job with this Tina-Fey-esque girl for about a year, mainly exchanging nods or minor information about bus schedules. She worked at the office complex across the street. Then on my last day of that job all of a sudden we had this huge great conversation and it turned out she had a lovely Canuck accent that I'd never noticed in our quotidian communications and she was kind of funny.

I didn't ask for her number. And of course I never saw her again after that.

*kicks self*

On my bikeride to work, there is a woman who used to be in a yoga class of mine many years ago, who walks fast with an overcoat and a bubushka scarf. There is another woman that used to have a personal ad on nerve.com years ago walking in the same direction, but separately.

There are the same people throwing balls for their dogs in the park I ride by, also.

When I commuted from Edmonds into Seattle (and back) there were quite a few regulars I noted. It was a while back so only a couple still stick in my mind.

The first person is a woman I'd see on the bus on the way home. She was 40ish, beautiful in an understated way, long dark hair with a couple streaks of silver, just about 5'0", very nicely dressed but not flashy. I used to imagine that she was a much better match for the mister before he became the mister.

The other person was a young guy, mid 20s or so. He was blond, slender, 5'6" or so, jittery (he was always fidgeting), drove a Jeep like I did (he parked in the same Park 'n' Ride). He wore a Claddagh ring on his pinky finger (can't remember if it was left or right). I used to make up stories about why he wore the ring.

PS: I can read while walking. I did so during my school years whenever I didn't have a bike or a ride home. I also can read while standing on a bus. Did it a lot, too; the Seattle to Edmonds route was busy. I'd just wrap my right arm around a vertical bar and hold my book with both hands.

I don't have any transit buddies. In the mornings I have darkness and the radio, which is incredibly peaceful.

My kid did ask to ride a bus yesterday. I told him we could ride the "Votran" soon. He said, "How about we ride the bus on vacation, instead?" I told him that was a much better idea!

what's a "roach coach" sperose?

Someone saw ME today. I post to the Commuting section of BikeForums.net. So some guy asks if I go down a certain street at a certain time and I say yes. He says, "I see you roll by every morning."

I'm not sure how I feel about the cyber world intersecting the real world.

Wilder: roach coach is a taco truck.

Once, though, I saw a young woman who looked so much like the older woman sitting behind her that I made up a whole story about how they were estranged mother and daughter in my head to pass the time

I used to make up stories about why he wore the ring.

I go for long walks, sometimes with my mp3 player filling my head with music and sometimes without. When it's quiet I make up stories about people who live in the houses on my regular route, using clues from their yards or from seeing them. One day my daughter came with me and I was telling her about the people that lived in a particular house. Long story short, she thought I was crazy. I'm glad to see I'm not alone (but maybe that just makes all us crazy?)

Wikipedia to the rescue: Roach Coach.

I think we're all crazy, nelvana.

I have not used public transit on a regular commute for a long time.

Back in the 80's I rode the same bus every morning and one of the regulars was a guy who smelled of B.O. and halitosis, and sometimes, a faint scent of poop. While none of the regulars really wanted to be near him we steeled ourselves and sat/stood near him and talked to him when need be. He was physically challenged and he had a severe mental deficit yet he went to work at a printing place every morning and was always happy and ready to talk despite the fact that it was difficult for him just to have a "nice weather today" sort of chat. He had been dealt a bad hand but he seemed to be doing quite well with it.

I still think of him when I want to feel sorry for myself.

This was a sad recent update to an old AskMefi bus-rider thread.

Now I walk the 10mins up Acton Vale to the High Street and get the crazy old lady who calls out "ARSEHOLE" and "WHOOOOORE" indisciminately and the nice people who walk their dogs to pick up their coffees. It depends on whether I leave at 8:45 or 9:00, really.

Er, that thread wasn't itself an update, but I was alerted to the update by a comment by Cortex recently. And it still made me sad.

I'm a 'bury-your-head-in-a-novel-and-earphones' gal, myself.