Well that was odd.

I finally had my first Mexican meal since being back in California. I was holding off for the right moment, so I stopped at a place in Morgan Hill I used to go to in high school.

I was sitting there reading my Korean phrasebook (I have to read something while eating alone) and the very white waiter came over and asked how things were. The strange part was that he said it in Korean. This floored me way more than it should have. Here I am in the midst of rural America, eating my chimichanga, and the Korean floats back in. That muffled sound was my brain doing a double-take.

I asked him how he knew Korean and he said he worked in a sushi restaurant with a lot of Korean clientele.

In other completely unrelated news, I think I’ve met a girl. I’m not quite sure yet. She should be here any minute, which is why I’m sort of rushing my way through this post


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