It’s Holly

I was debating whether to call this entry “The Real O.C., like, FOR REAL for real”, or simply what it is… “The O.C. for black folk”.

This weekend Patrick and I stayed in Laguna Beach, with plans to go to Catalina on Saturday. Unfortunately, due to weather, we never made it to Catalina (I wasn’t tryin’ to get stuck on an island in the rain), so we just slummed around Laguna for the weekend. We weren’t in the city for an hour before we felt how “white” Laguna Beach is. Some examples…

PCH
The first thing I noticed is how little of the beach you can actually see from Pacific Coast Highway. There are houses right up against the coast, and they (note: and by “they” i mean “the white people”) plant large bushes and build big ass walls to keep their privacy. That’s understood. But dang, can I see some coastline from PACIFIC COAST HIGHWAY? I guess not.

Rubys
We end up at Ruby’s Diner for a late dinner, where we sat in the corner of the restaurant overlooking the entire place. We were seated immediately. After waiting for about 5 minutes, a lady from another table comes up to us and says “Have you been helped yet? I’m waiting for my food, they haven’t even given you drinks yet?” Now, Patrick and I weren’t really trippin… but this lady was - real hard. Oh, she’s white (just for reference). So she gets up, all huffy n’ shit, and takes the first waitress she sees by the arm and says “My waitress disappeared, we don’t know where she is, and those people, those people over there ::shaking her index finger at us:: don’t even have drinks yet!”

The waitress explained that a large party came in late (we could see them, they were like, 30 deep, 20 of them kids) and that they had already let most of the waitresses go for the night, hence the slow service. The waitress apologized again. The crazy lady went off and said “You know what, I don’t need to talk to you…” and started walking over to the manager. And, again, said “Where’s my waitress? Those people don’t have drinks yet! ::pointing at us, again::”.

At this point, we decided that she works as a teacher at an inner city school, and she just happens to have a soft spot for the blacks. She just cared SO MUCH about our drinks and that we got good service. Thanks, random white lady. You’re not all the devil.

Chronic Tacos
As we drove up PCH, we kept passing this place called Chronic Tacos. Chronic… and tacos? Like, my two of my favorite things in one place? Heck yes!

Unfortunately, Chronic Tacos was neither the Chronic… nor the Taco. The set up was similar to Chipotle (which I refer to as “clean mexican food”, as opposed to somewhere ending in “-bertos”, which i refer to as “dirty mexican food), where they make the food right in front of you. The only problem is that they were trying to use dirty mexican ingredients in a clean mexican restaurant fashion. No bueno. So, Patrick and I came up with a list of ways to know whether or not you’re in a real taco shop.

1. Rolled tacos must be on the menu, and they MAY NOT be called taquitos.

2. A California Burrito must be on the menu, and it must be referred to as a California Burrito.

3. We’ll let Carne Asada Fries slip, but Nachos does not equal Carne Asada Chips.

4. Real taco shop cooks don’t use gloves to prepare your food, nor should you see them actually preparing your food. If gloves are worn, they’re “part of the uniform”, as Patrick put it… meaning they don’t come off FOR SHIT. You put on the gloves when you get there, and take that same pair off when you leave. The dude at Chronic Tacos was changing his gloves every time he touched something new. Pussy.

5. 3 tacos and a burrito should NOT be $17. Anywhere. Ever. Oh, except at Chronic Tacos.

6. There should be a green salsa and a red salsa. Red salsa must not be “salsa fresa”, or, as it was at Chronic Tacos, “Pace Picante”.

So, they’re trying real hard to be a taco shop, but it’s just not working. The customer service was excellent, but the food just wasn’t on point. He explained to us how the shrimp taco is “baja style”, with cabbage and lime. I’m like, dude, that’s Rubio’s style, and you’re just frontin’. Disappointing. Very, very disappointing, Chronic Tacos.

Overall, Laguna was fun. Well, making fun of some of the white people was real fun. But that’s always fun. There’s just so much material to work with in Laguna!