Greetings from the shores of long beach, "where Latino's, blacks, and whites mix about as well all oil, water, lead." I am here with my parents for their thirty-third anniversary (don't ask me why they took their son on their anniversary, but they did) and if there is one thing that I have noticed it is the fact long beach is most certainly not a racially friendly zone. The attitudes exhibited by one race to the other is reminiscent of a Mississippi town during the late fifties. For instance, my parents decided that it would be in their best interest if they went to Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles for their anniversary. Roscoes is an excellent choice for any occasion, including an anniversary lunch. I swear to anyone Roscoe's is the best food ever to be tasted by mankind. For the most part and in all but one of their five locations waitresses are respectable and kind to white gentry like ourselves. However, Long Beach was a different story. We entered into the house of fried chicken and waffles only to be snarled at. We were directed the most uncomfortable of seating. My father wanted to move but I decided that it was important for us to experience just the slightest bit of what our waitresses fore fathers and foremothers experienced on a day to day basis. Indeed it could be stated that if Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles were a nineteen fifties bus we would most definitely be on the back of it. What we had over the people of Birmingham and the deep south was the fact that no matter what happened at the end of our visit we would overcome and eat a delicious stack of waffles draped with syrup, butter, and the likes.
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