April 11, 2003. Friday.

I'm sitting at a parking area 3 miles south of Sutcliffe, Nevada, overlooking Pyramid Lake and eating sushi purchased at a small diner next to the Albertson's grocery store on the edge of Sparks on Highway 445. It was good, but not too filling for $4.75. My taste buds thanked me for it because sushi is one of favorite dishes. Everyone working in the sushi diner seemed to be Hispanic, which reminds me of the experience of eating in a Chinese restaurant in San Antonio, Texas, operated by Hispanics with country music in the background.

to be continued...