Reality Still Bites

Four slouching, mugging 15-year-olds (one of whom has way too many of my genes), the ex, the ex’s parents and I went to Buca di Beppo to gorge on what the hostess called “peasant Italian.” It was my kid’s birthday, so of course his mother chose where we ate.

And naturally, I paid.

Anyway, Buca is this huge place packed to the rafters with the San Fernando Valley’s polyglot population, bizarre photos of circus performers and strange, hungry people from the turn of the last century, and ads in Italian for pizza and the like.