Californians go to restaurants not to eat, but to proclaim their inner thoughts to all while pushing mountains of food round their plate with a fork. Normally they don't get even get through to the plate, before piling the remains into a polystyrene box. This is carried out and left on a nearby park bench. Whether this for the benefit of the birds or the hobos I don't know, but I do know that we aren't Californians.
Postcards from Venice
13 hours ago