Weaver's Web

So, I needed to come into town today to get some paperwork done. I stopped at Mombo's to get a couple of slices (and yes, unlike most west coast pizzerias, they do sell it by the slice there). They're as close to true Northern East Coast Pizza, the kind I grew up eating. The owner is a Greek guy from Boston and he's personally taught every employee how to throw a crust, the way they do back home.

The guy waiting on me at the counter greeted me by name, his cheery "Weaver!" with just a hint of the brogue that once colored his speech. His compadre behind the counter, from I think Guanajuato, greeted me in Spanish, asking me my plans for the holiday. We went on for a couple of minutes en Espanol, and then I took the box with my two slices and turned to leave. Seated behind me was an Indian family of 8, three generations, from a saried grey-haired grandmother to a couple of toddlers, happily munching away on a cheese pie, as they spoke in what I suspect was Hindi, not that I'd be able to tell the difference from that & Punjabi. A very pretty 5 year old girl holding a slice of pizza that dwarfed her little hands, looked me right in the eye and broke into a broad smile. I smiled back, nodding at her, and her grin got even larger and toothier, revealing a missing front tooth. With that, I was out the door and in the car, headed for my desk and papers. Once at the office, Vio, who knowing the office was closed for the 4th opted to clean today rather than last night, chirruped pleasantly in Romanian at me, asking me how I was. I countered, "Merci Vio, bine. Ce fac?" (That pretty well exhausts my Romanian.)

I'm reminded of the comic, Yakov Smirnov and his tagline, "What a country!" as I thought, only in America. Where else would I hear, English, Spanish, Hindi and Romanian in the space of less than 10 minutes? And on the 4th of July no less! What a country!