I went to the burrito place, like I always went to the burrito place, the one in our old neighborhood, the one with the long lines of people waiting to order and the colored bulbs strung across the patio and the upside down neon sombreros hanging from the ceiling. Our new neighborhood didn’t have a place to order a burrito. Our new neighborhood had bored kids and no sidewalks and stop signs that nobody stopped at. Our new neighborhood was two blocks from 82nd Avenue, a busy thoroughfare of big box stores and mini-malls and giant coffee chains with crappy coffee. Also there were hookers.