I've decided I must learn Spanish. All of the dishwashers and cook's assistants at Redrock speak Spanish. And unlike every other server, I have yet to learn any of their names. Thus I condescendingly refer to each of them as "amigo" when I need more steak sauce or a rack of glasses. And each and every time I call one of them amigo, I am met with an angry, "MY...NAME...IS...ARMANDO!" We have a good five or six Armandos in the back of the restaurant, but I never know which Armando is which. And if you're like me (ignorant), then you can't tell Israel from Juan from Armando.

Speaking of language barriers, the housekeepers usually clean on Thursdays. Well imagine my shock as I, clad only in tight boxer briefs, crawled to the kitchen for a bowl of Lucky Charms this morning, and there's Guadalupe and her sister. I think they enjoyed the encounter far more than I did.