Amtrak: Union Station

I have a two hour layover in Los Angeles. I wish I'd checked more of my luggage, so that instead of lugging around all these bags, I could trot off to Olvera street for some mole burritos. Okay, that will be my plan for the return trip.

I feel like a country bumpkin in the big city, because two jovial men come up and ask me where I bought my coffee (actually a smoothie) and then the other says hey it looks like a piña colada (in a "hey, baby, let's go have a drink tone of voice") and then they ask me if I'm taking the train, and finally stroll off after patting me on the arm. I quickly check to reassure myself that I have my wallet and my train ticket. Whew, I do!

I meet an older couple who has recently moved to San Diego, from Belen, New Mexico. They're tired but very friendly, and in good spirits.

I meet a little guy, about seven, and his little sister, maybe four, and their mom. The little guy is wearing a t-shirt that's in memorium to someone 1967-2005. I believe the someone is his dad. I pay him a little attention and he just blossoms. He likes my crocheting and mentions that he likes those beanies.

His family is relocating to Pennsylvania. He's thrilled that we'll be on the same train and wants me to come sit with them, but it's assigned seating and I'm way at the other end of the car.