A revisit to San Clemente

No bus comes on Sunday -- well it does, but at a different times and not as often. Sunday morning at seven, I connected with the Metro #14 but missed my #720 Red Rapid connection to Western and the Purple line.
  The Metro Purple Line has major stops along the line to the Union Station. the #720 takes you to the old Wiltern Theater and the underground. My Metro-Link train left at eight fifty back to San Diego.The elevator took me to the train and in a few minutes I was buying a Metro-Link ticket.  A gentleman tried to earn his money by intimidation and scamming. The lady, in front of the line, could no longer take his abuse.
  "Will you please leave me alone. You have been following me the last few minutes." She begged with terror in her voice."
  Now I became irritated. She now fumbled with the machines before obtaining her Sunday ticket. But the loafer would not stop his tirade. I felt like knocking the shit out of him, but knew my Rebbe would not allow it. With a deep guttural voice he kept at it.
  "Give me some money you white bitch. It's Sunday. Be nice to me."
  Well now, I gave this Obama voter a stare that must have unlocked his mind. He walked over to the other machine and again began his harangue -range for money. Harried a bit, it took a minute for my hands to calm down and hit the correct combination. In a split second, another one stood next to the machine. He knew a disturbed patron would leave a few dollar coins inside the machine.
  "May I help you son. Why do you stand by the machine?"
  "I need the money!"
  "Haven't you called our President yet, he is loaded."
The 8:50 would leave in five minutes. It gave me enough time to buy a Winchell Pretzel and get to the 8 B tunnel. I didn't know then if I had enough energy to get off a San Clemente. My March 30th blog spoke about how gorgeous the beach city looked from above on the train.
  About a hundred Asians came off the train with me. It was hot a muggy. I ate a quick breakfast at a eatery across the street and next door to a tourist shop. I was on El Camino Real, the first California Street. 
  There were hotels in back of me and several Spanish ones across the street to the south. Since the city was built on a large hill -- you could see the ocean from anywhere. the Pacific shores from anywhere. 
  At Pier front was the Fisherman's restaurant, now at ten thirty crowded. On the beachfront was a large hamburger stand with fries, hot doggies, salads and you-name-its. Mobile toilets were to the south of the old one now being modernized,
  On my March First blog, I wrote that the surfing was great. Like the day in March, the sets of waves danced in one-at-a-time. The boarders were further to the south.
  On the bus stop a lady told me why the beach seemed so pristine "We have an old counsel chamber that refuses to budge. Unlike San Diego, it wishes to remain the way it was and not become a circus like it is in San Diego.