My old man gets back from ten days in LA, staying in Pico-Robertson and Westwood.

And the first thing he says to me, bewildered, is "WHERE THE HELL ARE THE MEXICANS? I'M AT RESTAURANTS, EATING, AND ALL THE WAITERS AND KITCHEN STAFF ARE WHITE HOW DO THEY EXPECT ME TO EAT MY FOOD LIKE THAT? I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THEIR HANDS HAVE BEEN OR IF THEY KNOW HOW TO COOK THE FOOD."

He's taking a Spanish intensive so he can travel to the East Side for a decent meal.

...yeah.

I got nothin'.