From SF Weekly:
Approaching the perky Applebee’s receptionist, I explain that I’m supposed to meet a guy named Kevin, his wife, a baby, and another member of their group. “They promote our culture you know,” I say with a wink. The white supremacists are already eating their appetizers; they have frowns on their faces. “There’s nothing I hate more than traffic,” I present as an excuse. “Except, of course, the Jews.”
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