Friday night I met a bunch of friends up at the London Grill for happy hour. We sat outside, along the west wall of the restaurant. Because we weren’t allowed to block the sidewalk for passersby, we could only sit along one side of the table. There were thirteen of us at one point, and we ended up looking like some very odd version of the Last Supper.

One of the perks to only sitting along one side of the table is that it made for great people watching. About an hour into our stay, a waitress from the restaurant walked two elderly ladies out to the corner, and carefully explained to them how to take the bus back into Center City. She repeated several times, “the 48 will come right here and you should only have to wait a couple of minutes.”

They waited, one in a straw hat with fabric flowers, and the other in a white jacket with large faces sketched on to it, for about seven or eight minutes until the bus came. The driver noticed who his waiting passengers were, and lowered the steps to make it easier for them to get on. The woman wearing the hat struggled getting up the stairs a bit, and so the driver hopped out of his seat to help her. She waited as he sat back down, and leaned over him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He blushed, she grinned and we applauded.