I was served by Flava Flav

Well...not really...but the kid was really trying to be Flav. He had the gold teeth, the braids, and he was totally pimpin with his attire, a light blue ensemble from head to toe. Yes, even the shoes were light blue! You just don't see men in pastel, easter egg colored shoes every day.

The run in with "Flav" got me looking around at others in the restaurant. It's good to try to stay stylish in your later years. But the grey haired granny that was sporting the capris and matching hoodie was taking things a bit too far!

At the booth in back of me, two women were dining, and had obviously been to the beauty shop in the last day or so. They didn't leave their homes this morning without every hair being in place. Was it too much to expect them to comb the hair of the 2 year old child whose crowning glory had reached afro proportions?

And what was up with the dude who sat with a group of coworkers and ate his entire meal while his sunglasses were perched on the back of his neck, as if they were protecting the rear and would alert him at the first sign of attack?

After lunch my sister and I went to get our hair cut and sat waiting while one stylist gave the other stylist a shampoo. What the fuck? She couldn't wash her hair at home?

You just never know what you're gonna see in this city.