The corner convenience store has gone through several owners, an aged Indian couple, an Arab, and a Pakistani man just settling in over the last few weeks. He promptly hired a young Nepalese gentleman named Key Run to work the late-night counter trade. Barrel-chested and effusive, Key Run looks as though he could pick me up and toss me through a plate glass window. But he smiles frequently, and hopefully, he has no plans to toss me into the nearest Dumpster.
Goat, pig, chicken and beef seem to be his favorite meats, but he confessed that, along with a lot of other Nepalese, he eats a lot of bean burritos. Bean burritos, I asked? This poor devil might never eat a real, southern California burrito, and instead find himself buried under a pile of thick, stiff tortillas filled with pinto beans and processed yellow cheese. Jesus.
I asked Key Run if Nepal is a favored destination for Americans. Oh yes, he said, and he immediately perked up. His voice took on the stentorian bark of a train conductor, and he shouted “Maximum people is coming to Nepal!”
