The glass refrigerator case glows mad bright in the front room, lit by a mercury-vapor bulb that makes the lined-up soft drinks phosphoresce, from the painfully orange Fanta to the grass-green, urine-yellow, and candy-apple-red Jarritos, painting rainbows on the faces of three diners who sit right next to the case. At this late hour the back room is occupied by single Mexican men, who perch one per table, nursing beers, as Spanish-language heavy-metal music thumps through the darkened room. Occasionally a campesino breaks into frenzied song, or springs up and dances a quick two-step with one of the... More >>>