In early 2005 I visited southern California. As we were out for breakfast one morning I noticed someone with long hair and wearing a baseball cap sitting in the back. He reminded me of David Lee Roth and I mentioned this to my friend. He also saw the resemblance. We randomly began calling the name David out loud to see if he would react but he didn't. As we continued debating whether it is him or not my friend's girlfriend stood up, called on the guy and said, "These guys think you are David Lee Roth." He hesitated, smiled and noncommittally asked, "Why, do I look like him?" He then denied it was him. He finished his meal before us and as he was leaving gave us a look and a thumbs up before exiting.
"My parents, brother, and I left Iran in 1980, shortly after the revolution. After a brief stay in Italy, we packed all our belongings once again and headed west to the exotic and the unknown: Vancouver. We had recently been accepted as landed immigrants, meaning Canada graciously opened its doors and we gratefully accepted; we arrived at Vancouver International Airport on my 10th birthday, three suitcases and one sewing machine in tow. After respectful but intense questioning at immigration, we were dropped off at a hotel on Robson Street, which was then still a couple years shy of becoming the fashionable tourist hub it is today. We were jetlagged, culture shocked, and hungry, so that first night, my father and brother courageously ventured out into the wild in search of provisions. I fell asleep before they returned. The next morning, I woke up at 5 a.m. and ravenously feasted on a cold Quarter Pounder with cheese and limp French fries that had been left by my beds...

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