Tent City San Diego

 It is Sunday. The library will open at one o'clock today. I get on the Orange Line Trolley at the American Plaza station. At Civic Center, a few homeless leave their tents to share their wows with one another. A few homeless jump on the train.
  A toothless young gal and her pimp fight over a beer. The train is their office. Another homeless get aboard and stares at me. He would like to steal my clothes. I get off on Park and  Market Street. I need to walk another block and a half to get to the library that opens Sundays at one o'clock. To the South is the Coronado Bridge and the Tijuana mountains. It is another clear day brought on by the Santa Ana winds.
  My wind pipe is clogged with all the dust and pollen. Am I in Palm Springs-West? . I use my puffer once or twice and glance to my left. Several tents are parked  once next to another. Homeless live in these makeshift homes. A few more tents and sleeping bags I see in the Petco Parking lot.
  The library is about to open. Several homeless line up to get the first crack at the bathrooms. One, carrying too many bags, is told to leave the library. A security guard escorts him away. I enter and take the escalator to the third floor.
  A Mexican mother and her three kids are on three computers. They are making too much noise but I am too tired to fight it. I work mine for about one hour and decide to take a break. I take the elevator to the night floor to its penthouse or the ninth floor.

   I find a picnic table and remove a tuna sandwich and a bag of potato chips. A  guide escorts a few tourists to show San Diego's view from the library's head. It is so clear I can touch Mexico. I can still taste the spicy Mexican food from the Lolita's restaurant a few block west. The guide is speaking.
   "That is the Coronado Bridge over there and the St. Marcos mountains to the east...Yes, I will take your pictures, but don't stand too close to the little rail...The building in back of us houses rare books and also is our genealogy area. We have data bases and more books inside there. Over there is some antique art. That room is closed today..."
   I finish my sandwich and grab a few cutie tangerines to wash the fish down. I drink from a fountain and enter the genealogy room. I only care about the digital microfilm machine. I need to use it for information and also print pictures off of it on to my thumb drive. A gentleman with a Santa Claus smile and torso to match escorts me through the machine.
  "Now click on the 'cropping menu', good. Use your mouse to draw a rectangle around what you wish to copy...Now drop down the file menu to "export"..."
  I thanked the jolly man and decided  to return to my humble abode on Broadway. Back on Park Blvd now i walked north. A black with is white bitch screamed at each other. I saw a vacant sign in front of the Park apartments. (More to come)