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Some time ago, I was in the city. It was a perfect opportunity to get some fried okra. The location I’d previously visited during my time living in the city was closed so I had to drive a good deal deeper to find the other restaurant franchise.

This neighborhood was incredibly dark.. Surprising considering just one block north, it is predominantly hispanic. A mile south and it is strictly hispanic again. Immediately west, it was a mix with much European.

An old vagabond politely begged me for food. As I was stuck their a while waiting for my food, I bought him a drink. He became my best friend while waiting.

Could not help but study the history of the municipality wondering how the negro population could be so high. Needless to say, it felt like an authentic fried chicken experience.