W.S. Di Piero 6:30 a.m., Sept. 17
Ed just about busts his gut at the Parlour.
At last. Have been watching this site for months. I’m riding on the southbound Orange Line as it pulls in to the Park and Market stop. Bunch of school kids haul out and start streaming ...
South of Rosarito, at Ruben’s, Ed becomes a happy camper.
“You come at, say, nine in the morning, I guarantee you won’t get out before two.”
Bedford finds an aria and a cream river at Café 1134
Opera? On Orange Avenue? I was ambling up Coronado’s main street, trying to figure out what to do for the three hours Carla usually takes to get her hair frou-froued up over here — Diane ...
Down at the Chula Vista Marina, Ed continues on his big mussel jag.
"’ll meet you at the Galley,” says Joe into his cell phone. This was during one of the heat waves. He lives way east of El Cajon, so I knew he was pitching for the ...
Slurping it up at Sea180.
“Everyone has waited ten years for this,” he says. “People said, ‘It’s I.B. It’ll never happen!’”
It pierces the night. A sharp whistle and then a woolly hoot. First thought: train. But how come a train is running through downtown Tijuana late at night? It’s not far. I can see the ...
Welcome to Tinforkland
He’s never seen a chafing dish that rubbed him the wrong way.
He celebrates by adding the hot link from Dreams for Change.
‘Oh, no. Midnight!” The guy looks at the dice. Two sixes facing up on the pavement. (Two sixes? Like, twelve. That’s why they call this roll “Midnight.”) He picks up the dice and shakes them ...
Between Mexican Fiesta and Stone, Ed is in danger.
"Things have been pretty horrible in the Congo for decades. So, their coffee is in this beer.”
This courtyard is an oasis from the streets of Sherman Heights.
Sherman Heights. Around seven in the evening. I’m standing over the grilled onions, breathing in their fumes. And the blackened green jalapeños. Man. You cannot beat this. With most Mexican food trucks, the health authorities ...