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At 12th and Imperial, switching from one trolley to another. Trouble is there's a third one gets in the way. Too late to jump through. Dang. Meantime my one goes. That's another fifteen minutes I've got to wait.
So I head to the A-Mart convenience snack place for, I swear, a snack.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44320/
Problem is that's where I meet Ron.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44327/
I'm guessing he's Chaldean.
"Dichiwoods," I say, practicing the Aramaic my buddy Wissam from another liquor store taught me. "How are you?"
"Randa!" he says. "Good!"
Name's Ron.
"Looking for a snack till the next trolley," I say.
"This is the food section," he says. "Lower shelf we microwave, upper, you wouldn't want to."
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44314/
See what he means. It's all salads. The lower shelf has burgers, hot dogs, other stuff wrapped in plastic.
"Uh, happy hour's off today."
Ron has a sense of humor. Chaldeans seem to.
And then he's back serving the line of customers.
Problem is Ron's made me realize how hungry I am. Have to move quick. Go for the heatable shelf. Grab a "Big AZ." Next to the cheeseburgers. A Country Fried Chicken. Five bucks. And, what da heck, a fruit salad ($3.99). And, help it all down, a small coffee $1.25). About ten buckeroos in all.
Take it to the long narrow counter that looks out across the platforms so I can see when mine's coming, alongside other people waiting for their ride like me, plus trolley drivers, security guards, moms with kids clinging and whining.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44312/
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44313/
Have to say, this is filling. Even the fruit salad would've been enough. And hey, it even has a slice of mango. I'm eating both plates at once, just for speed. The chicken sandwich is pretty huge. No fantastic flavor, but it does the job, specially when I put on the mustard and mayo and ketchup that Ron loaded me up with.
Bonus: All the while, you're watching the drama of humanity right outside. Little romances, big worries, loud laffs, like a movie at your table.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44316/
Uh oh. I hear the horn. That's mine. And hey, Ron's there, plastic bag in hand. I stuff my leftovers into it.
"Watch before you cross the tracks!" he warns.
At 12th and Imperial, switching from one trolley to another. Trouble is there's a third one gets in the way. Too late to jump through. Dang. Meantime my one goes. That's another fifteen minutes I've got to wait.
So I head to the A-Mart convenience snack place for, I swear, a snack.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44320/
Problem is that's where I meet Ron.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44327/
I'm guessing he's Chaldean.
"Dichiwoods," I say, practicing the Aramaic my buddy Wissam from another liquor store taught me. "How are you?"
"Randa!" he says. "Good!"
Name's Ron.
"Looking for a snack till the next trolley," I say.
"This is the food section," he says. "Lower shelf we microwave, upper, you wouldn't want to."
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44314/
See what he means. It's all salads. The lower shelf has burgers, hot dogs, other stuff wrapped in plastic.
"Uh, happy hour's off today."
Ron has a sense of humor. Chaldeans seem to.
And then he's back serving the line of customers.
Problem is Ron's made me realize how hungry I am. Have to move quick. Go for the heatable shelf. Grab a "Big AZ." Next to the cheeseburgers. A Country Fried Chicken. Five bucks. And, what da heck, a fruit salad ($3.99). And, help it all down, a small coffee $1.25). About ten buckeroos in all.
Take it to the long narrow counter that looks out across the platforms so I can see when mine's coming, alongside other people waiting for their ride like me, plus trolley drivers, security guards, moms with kids clinging and whining.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44312/
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44313/
Have to say, this is filling. Even the fruit salad would've been enough. And hey, it even has a slice of mango. I'm eating both plates at once, just for speed. The chicken sandwich is pretty huge. No fantastic flavor, but it does the job, specially when I put on the mustard and mayo and ketchup that Ron loaded me up with.
Bonus: All the while, you're watching the drama of humanity right outside. Little romances, big worries, loud laffs, like a movie at your table.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/apr/23/44316/
Uh oh. I hear the horn. That's mine. And hey, Ron's there, plastic bag in hand. I stuff my leftovers into it.
"Watch before you cross the tracks!" he warns.