La Imperial

This evening, driving up 880 after work and gripped by a fierce hunger, I pulled off in Hayward and ended up at La Imperial. La Imperial enjoys a modest reputation for its Mexican food, but in plain fact it stands out as an extraordinarily low-class restaurant even in a city as utterly graceless as Hayward. Polished, urbane, witty, knowing, ironic, recherche, faux...these are not words one can use at La Imperial.

It's an establishment of vivid, strident slovenliness.

A heavily bandaged waiter with a three-day beard, bleary eyes and a tractor-pull hat lurched between tables filled with economically disadvantaged people staring angrily at their menus, clearly unable to read. At the front a 300-pound woman took money and screeched at customers. Babies howled. I half-expected to see someone defecating on the floor.

My God it was awful.