Confrontation in LA Bus Station

Sitting at the LA bus station at 12:30 AM is eventful. There are all
kinds of people from all over the world. An African lady (Liberia) is
standing at the telephone charging station talking with a lady from
Puerto Rico. They ask if the picture on my cell phone is of my wife?
They say, "she is pretty." I think so.
 
The young chicanos are all strutting showing their stuff. Whatever
"stuff" is and trying to be tough. They got their hoods over their
heads and looking around head ducked and eyes lifted up peering from
under the hood. They tend to ignor me, a crazy old man with unkept
grey hair and trashed bluejeans. I think that is a good thing.
 
Then there are the two guys wearing blankets with holes cut in them
for their heads. Of course I can't neglect the guy that went our of
his way to call me QUEER because I was watching Family Time ( a
discusting cartoon show seen at all greyhound stations). I'm not sure
why he thought it was important to yell QUEER at me. Maybe I am queer
to the LA world. Not gay, just queer in the sense of not fitting in.
Fred said I was dressed (Grace Point polo shirt) like a narcotics
agent. Ha!
 
The friendliest people are middle to late age Mexican people. They
try to avoid conflict and tend to smile. They are old enough to have
experienced the vapor of life and settled in with a sense of
contentment. I think much can be learned from one who has worked in
the fields and still produced fruit in their own lives...

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