San Diego, A Tale of Two Cities.

   I left the downtown "Y" upset. I had disconnected with my first born. So after a long 'Y' shower, a removed the cobwebs from my asthmatic body and sailed out of the 1924 historical building.The Blue Line Trolley awaited me at the American Plaza station. It was four shopping days until Christmas and my mind was made up. Until my two daughters let bygones be bygones, I will deport myself downtown.
   I crossed over the two way tracks and bumped my Coaster card. The $41 a month card allows me to go on every form of transportation. The Blue was empty except my coffee and me. All trolleys have two heads and the end of the line becomes the beginning once again.  The conductor crossed to the other end and unlocked the cab door. After a few minutes, her voice came on.
   "We will be going to  San Ysidro and the border. You must have a ticket. Remember no smoking or placing your feet on the seats are permitted. You must not drink except when your container is self contained."
   My coffee cup pleaded with me to finish the last drops. The train inched forward. A lady and her black dog ran to board but were a bit late. The East sun hit the walls of buildings to the north. Endless tracks of sleeping bags stirred. Their sleepy passengers grabbed their coffees,  stroked their beards, and blinked at the nine o'clock sun.
   The Blue stopped at Fifth Avenue. The conductor pushed a lever and the lift strutted down to receive a wheel chair. She placed her chair next to the front door, and a few Mexicans boarded. They sat together and their excitement woke me up. Whenever more than two Mexicans gathered , it felt like a soccer match between two Latin countries.
  Up ahead at the City College stop on Park Blvd, another wheel chair boarded the Blue. Well groomed wearing a San Diego baseball hat, the conductor hit the lever that lifted him. He rolled his buggy to a disable spot up front.
   "Where are you headed," the conductor begged.
   "Chula Vista, " he responded
   I de-trained at Park and Market. Sleeping bags were along the fence, still asleep. I began to walk the one block to the library. On Saturday, the downtown Library awoke at nine thirty. With a few minutes to spare, I ambled over to the north side of Petco Park. I saw a large red tent. A long line of homeless waited their turn for free coffee, cream and a donuts.
  Now at the end of the line, I waited my turn. I am not a stranger to homelessness. A man took my picture, even though I did not say cheese. A man approached me. "I shit in my pants," he said to the man in back. "Do you have any spare underwear?"
  After I finished my coffee, I climbed up the library steps. I logged in on a third floor computer. The sweats next to me could not speak any English. Her boy friend tried without any success.

  My blogs on Tale will become a book later this year. Merry Xmas to you from Cruisin'George