Our soup spoons were poised delicately in the air. The smell of the tomato bisque wafted to our noses as we restrained ourselves from slurping away. Surely we could manage this with grace; we certainly looked like confident young professionals.
At first, the road sign seems rather ordinary. Bold, green and functional, it could have been plucked from any interstate highway. Yet contradicting its mundane appearance is its content: “Little Saigon: Next Right.”
71°F