Starbucks, the Gateway to San Diego, Chapter four.

Starbucks is the gateway to San Diego. Tourists, workers and the homeless make up most of the population as the city outgrows its shoes and it is impossible to find parking, with new parking meters funding many programs. It sits on the corner of Kettner and Broadway, a baseball toss to the Santa Fe Station and a few steps to the buses and the trains.
    Today, as usual, I am in the mood for a chocolate drink. It is only five thirty but I am an early bird. .I need to see the morning sun and begin to sing,  Baby It is Cold Outside.  I skip down the steps of  the  YMCA, turn right and walk across India Street. I trip over a few bikes and shopping carts as one is folding her sleeping bag.
    I order a small hot chocolate and take up my roost beside the windows  with a view of the  Bank of America and the many briefcases and yellow helmets that have come from the Coaster trains. A few briefcases enter and get in line. The yellow helmets are beginning to build a new Superior Court building, and almost all are tall and rugged Latinos. A bit of irony, but a block from this new edifice sits a  federal prison made up mostly young Latinos. Heroin and other drugs were there source of income. (We will speak about this building later.) 
    Those who live in Tents on Harbor or Pacific are the first to toilet and buy a drink.  One drink entitles them to all the amenities of this famous coffee shop. Across from me sits General Taylor, or ah he looks like one out of the Civil War.
     General Taylor is tall, bald and has grown well manicured whiskers. The sun's rays reflect off his head   His feet are at least a size fifteen and he dresses immaculately. He wears stylish white sports socks sneak out of his fashionable sandals.  He has three satchels and a lab top. He scrutinizes the many messages on his computer. He looks like he could have been a sailor on the good ship Moby Dick sailing out of Nantucket.

I pamper my hot chocolate and watch the workers, many from across the border, pile on the 992. Thousands enter San Diego each day to work at domestics, cashiers, restaurant helpers, or inside hotels. They are the girders that hold up the stockings of  San Diego. Buses take them to their place of work.
    "Hey, can I bum a cigarette off of you."
     "Not today...try me tomorrow after i get paid....Top of the morning to you."
  Now a multicolored beanie, with flaps comes my way, just after the Escondido bus takes its passengers thirty miles to one of San Diego's first gambling clubs, Harrahs.
     "Hey can I bum a cigarette off of you?"
     "Here is a quarter...Gave up smoking long ago." (Not finished or edited yet. sketch written in 2011.)
   
   
   

A Little Saigon Barber shop

I cashed my state check at Walmart and of course have them print two lump money orders for my rent. I must pay by the third or get an eviction notice plastered on my door. But today I would celebrate life with some good food.
   Atlantic Square is off of Beach and Atlantic, about a half mile from the beach. With a full pocket of  bills, I noticed a bagel shop across the way. Too tired to celebrate, I walked inside and placed my order. It was nine thirty, and I had just left my Sandbox or AA meeting on the beach. I felt upset that the barber shop was closed since it was Monday.
    "Ah...let me see. Have two onion bagels with butter please, and a cup of green tea please."
    "Thank you sir...we will bring the food to you."
   I took up a seat across from a mounted T.V. Air Force One had just landed at the Andrews Air Force base. A large contingent of soldiers waited for Bush's remains to exit the plane....
     "Well thanks a lot."
     I folded one bagel and crunch it in my toothless mouth until the food became soft and ready to swallow. Back at the T.V., his sons left the plane and several canons went off. I thought how well he had served his county and the stature and humility of the man. An ugly thought crossed my mine. Would are so-called leader show up and give one of his speeches today or simply see how he has put the world at attention waiting for his next move. The two bagels did what they were supposed to do, quiet my stomach. The 29 A bus now took me to the Bella Terra shopping center.
      I bought a bag of local farmers market tangerines...one ninety nine a pound and worth every penny. I sat by the corner window and knew the juice from these little ovals would calm my nerves- and they did. At about eleven, slim, attractive body pants entered, one even winked at me but without teeth, i only nodded a thank you.

But let me cut to the chase. I still needed a hair cut besides some teeth. Vaguely, I remembered a strip  mall off of Garfield and Magnolia. I got off the #33 and walked across Garfield  There was a hair and nail salon, a tailor's store, a catering business and finally a barber shop. I entered and saw one solitary Asian lady.
    "Ah...Do you cut hair?"
     "Yes I do." Not only did she understand English but possessed a warm friendly smile.
     "How much do you charge for an old man?"
     "Ten dollars."
      "Do you wish regular cut."
      "What about a trim...or just do it your way."
       Below the wall mirror swam two cramped Gold Fish Ornamental flowers too perched under the window  The lady wore a perpetual smile and engaged me in conversation. I must admit the way she used her hands woke up something i had missed for a long time.
       " I only cut men's hair...Women talk too much.."
        "Charlotte, were you one of the boat people from Vietnam?
        "Yes..went to Malaysia first, then to Philippines for two month, long enough to learn English and then Texas. I did not wish to be a barber because women talk to much. My girl friend told me to cut men's hair so I did...
        The mirror told me that she possessed a cute face. Her hands worked as if on auto pilot. My head began to be shaped the way i wanted. In fact, I began to look handsome. I felt totally relaxed inside of Charlotte's Web-got it?
         "I took fifty hours of training at a Barber's College in Texas, and I almost quit when my friend told me to cut men's hair. I pride myself in being the best barber in Surf City."  She told me little things about Little Saigon as she magically stroked my neck and put coconut bream on top of my dry head.
         'Never buy can products or meat at a Vietnamese market. And if you wish fresh and cheap chicken go to the market on Bolsa and Beach early in the morning. You pick the chicken and they wrap it up.. Charlotte began to massage my scalp as she told me that she can make the best chicken broth in the land.
          'Hey Charlotte, I am interested in marrying a Vietnamese girl. Let me know if any are interested?" ...
          It must have been the longest haircut I ever got. Why even my second daughter didn't recognize her handsome dad a week later.