A surprise at the (Thai) restaurant:

It turns out that the kitchen workers aren't (Mexican), but rather from a (Central American) country and they all speak a(n indigneous) language to some degree, that I've seen mentioned in the paper and in job ads for translators for the local hospital and school system.

And, one of the fry-cooks is even more comfortable in that language than in (Spanish).

"I had no idea," I was like, to the wife of the one (young) (Thai) married couple.

"You never hear him speak with his brother in that?!", she was like.

It's really mind-blowing to me, that here I am working at this little restaurant kind of in the middle of nowhere, where I unlock the door onto main street and pull out and set up and unwind a patio umbrella every morning etc. etc. etc., and then there's this relatively rare language just spoken daily like twenty feet away from me, all this chattering that's been going on in the kitchen all this time and I had absolutely no idea at all about it.

Like, what the f*ck.