Over the weekend I escorted one of my young lady friends on a shopping spree to South Coast Plaza, an upscale establishment specialising in mostly high-end luxury goods.
We were there ostensibly to find her a new handbag, although I was lured in by the Berluti, Rolex, and John Lobb stores, as you might expect.
The expedition, however, soon resulted in us standing around gawking at the throngs of pygmy Mongols swarming along the walkways. It was as if the Golden Horde itself had descended upon the place, driven into a frenzy by the sales.
When I was a young boy, growing up in New York and Connecticut, I used to imagine the battles that took place in the area in colonial times. These days, I admit to you, thanks to the mass infusion of temporary visitors to these shores, I increasingly find myself picturing the guerrilla race wars that certainly (I hope) will take place in this country in future. An inspiring thought to be sure.
"Good Lord," my girl later said to me as we walked out, "three-fourths of the people in there were Asian."
"Indeed," I replied.