Waterfront Wedding.

The Waterfront Hilton Hotel is the scene of the wedding of the year. The event begins at three o'clock and of course I will attend in a seat at the coffee shop. That is where Kennedy and Fisher will take their vows, and are they in luck. It is a perfect day for the ceremony, with not a cloud in the sky with no wind.
    My Access taxi had picked me up at eight o'clock sharp and drove me to the front off of Atlantic Avenue. Inside I walked up some steps and peered out the window. A few hundred seats had already been set up in front the pool with a divine view of the and a worker hosing the pavement and arranging chairs.   I pass the dinning area, at least for now, and begin to turn left. No way can my retirement check allow me to invest in a hardy $50 buffet.
    "Good morning sir...Have a good day...Nice to see you again.." The well dressed host always provides a friendly smile. Today I can see Catalina as  make a turn in the coffee clutch area and order my large dark brew"
     "Want the usual...large and dark with room."
      I take my large Starbucks to the filling station and pour several small jars of honey into it. I then ;pour half and half until it hits the rim of the cup. Gently I stir it and walk into the patio area. Workers are breaking up the stone walk way and removing large Palm trees Several Latino workers shovel and haul away the remains.
       Wouldn't be great if all Latinos, legal or whatnot's struck and walked off the job. It would paralyze are economy and perhaps take our man Trump down a peg. 

Outside on :P.C.H I see that my bus, the #25 is about to roll so I descend the steps and wait on Huntington Avenue. It is great to leave the driving to Hertz. I mean Octa and allow me to smooch with the view. The bus turns to Orange and proceeds to Seventeenth Street.. It turn on Main and makes another on Yorktown before lumbering on to Golden West.
   At Garfield Mother Hubbard climbs...I mean slithers up the steps carrying her large black handbag, two others and cane. Her rectangular face has no expression, but it is her socks that scare the dickens out of me. She has worn those same white wool socks for months now. Some of the threads are outside the sock. Over her rectangular head she wears her grey-black hair down to her shoulder.
   Before we get to my destination, Talbert and the library, I reflect on the last dinner with my grandchildren and marvel at the way Olivia told a story about a man with no respect. Life would certainly be a bore without grandchildren.
   For those who wish to get to the wedding, don't drive but take the #29 bus from Beach going south to get there. Also the number one bus can do the same.