Little Italy

   I am at the corner of First and Broadway. In my bag is a Ralph's barbecued chicken, with a cucumber and some fruit in the other one. I sit on the steps of the Transit Station office.Patrons line up to buy their bus, trolley and compass passes.  . Several homeless sit at the corner bus stop and hope loose change falls their way.  .  A homeless young man walks up to me.
    "Brother, do you have any spare change?"
     "Not today," I reply and admire the busy Sushi restaurant across the street. It is the busiest restaurant in all San Diego. There is another line for their  fish meals. The Spreckels Theater sits  across the street. It is one of the busiest intersection in all of San Diego. Asians are lined up twenty deep. The same scene can be seen every evening on Broadway. (My car is garaged at the Old Town commuter covered parking lot. It is free and safe. at the commuter parking area.)
   Cars kiss each other snaking down "D" Street renamed Broadway. Their cell phones wait for each light to turn green.  I munch on parts of my chicken and wait for the Number 2 or the 992 bus. Both can drop me off at the historical monument called the YMCA. It is between Columbia and India Streets.
   
   Once a week, I walk north down India Street on my way to Little Italy. I leave the back entrance of the 'Y' and pass 'pissers' corner. The homeless use a large dumpster for a toilet at night. To the right side is 'smokers' corner. Smoking is forbidden at the YMCA. With my eyes shut my nose can walk me there.
. "Good morning sir." Another homeless one asks for a "light" What they wish for is money, and a coin or two will do. The Seven Eleven is at the corner of C and India. The orange and blue line trolley stations are a few feet from the too busy store. There are over ten thousand homeless in San Diego. Many sleep under bridges or straight out in the open. Gangrene set in for some making their stay in San Diego brief. Over 10,000 are homeless in San Diego.
  The good news is a new Library in the epicenter of sleeping bag area. The big library will serve as their place to toilet and shave. Now the homeless have a place to toilet, rather than the street. Yes, San Diego provides no rest rooms. 
   
   Today Little Italy is my destination. I walk down India Street north to the little quiet hamlet. My mind needs piece and quiet today. Date Street appears after Cedar and then Fur and Grape. s when Date Street appears.. In alphabetic order are the streets like Fur and Grape. At least the kids don't need to eat alphabet soup like I did. They learn the alphabet with their feet. 
   The grade school kids have an easier time learning their alphabet. I pass small Mexican restaurant on the west side. Several Mexicans flood into a small store for passports and other legal documents. A Mexican Consulate is up ahead.  Soon, the smell of cheese sparks my appetite and warns me Little Italy is up ahead.  
   Soon a large luminous sign signals I made it to Little Italy.  Table cloth eateries make up most of the restaurants in Little Italy.  Little Italy on the East side of the street. Another Southwest plane flies overhead on its approach to 'Lindy' Field. 
  No doubt Lindbergh ate here in the early twenties Portuguese fishermen made Little Italy their home. Many of their fishing boats were used to help rescue sailors whose ships were torpedoed. Many never came home and a ceramic squares with names on them are a monument to the brave fisherman who helped win the war.
   Another Southwest flies overhead on its approach to "Lindy" Field.  I choose Patrino's, a favorite among the denizens. There is a deli in the front with its meats, cheeses and wine. The back of the joint has several  large rooms.It is four o'clock, and all are hungry.
    "Can I have the spaghetti with two meatballs and cold water?"
    She returns with a glass of cold water and a straw. Two heavy set  married couples sit to my left. They speak to the food but not each other. They probably eat Italian each week. A young couple probably on a first date have not stop talking to each other. They wear a  perpetual smile. 
   The dating couple has not stopped chatting. Their lovely antipasto salad is crest fallen. I feel lonely and wish my gal Gloria sat across from me. A dating young couple have not stopped talking ignoring the lonely salad.   
   I  finish my meal and drink one drink another cold one, I mean water.. I pay the bill with a Madison and leave two Washington's for her tip. I get up and take another look at the two married couples. The portly pair take their anger on the pizzas.
   I now walk south and pass a picture shop, several old wooden homes, and some American restaurants. I cross over to the West side of the street and go in the opposite direction south. The west side of the street is in the shady side. I put away my sun screen.  
  I have a great view of the Harbor and take an exit down Beech Street to see the Berkeley, and old steam ship. I wish to buy some post cards and sit on the wharf. It is now bed time for Mr. Sun. What a view. "Wow" I say to my self...I walk the two blocks to the Harbor. 

 An hour later I feel hungry and order a shrimp salad at Anthony's a prominent restaurant. A couple in back of me wants directions to the Zoo. 
   "Take the Number 7 where Broadway meets Union. It get to one of the three boulevards in San Diego, or Park Blvd. San Diego Junior College is to the right, and up ahead is San Diego High, the first one in this beautiful city. Two stops later is your stop." 
   The couple thanks me and I walk through the then Holiday Inn until the Santa Fe Depot is seen. I hear the horn of a Amtrak and the quick beeps of the trolley. 
   I open the window of my little cell at the "Y". I hear a long loud fog horn. A Carnival ship has docked at the Harbor. I fall fast asleep and dream about visiting the England of Charles Dickens next year.