I can't actually say that I know what my readers imagine a Dallas/Fort Worth suburb is like, but I'd like to describe my visit to the U.S. Post Office today (Friday). I think you will be surprised. This was not a Post Office in either Dallas or Fort Worth but in my little suburb.
The first guy in line was a large Mexican man in a wheelchair. Behind him was a young black lady. On the back of her T-shirt was a biblical verse about victory. I found this particularly interesting, because behind that lady was a Pakistani Muslim family of three. The teenage daughter was wearing a head scarf, but the mother's had fallen to her shoulders. The little boy was sweet and gave me a big smile when I walked in. I wondered if they had read the biblical passage on the back of the black lady's T-shirt. I noticed the teenage Muslim girl staring intently behind me and turned to see that the lady behind me was Indian.
Behind the Indian lady was a very short tubby white guy. He was followed by a girl that was a Pacific Islander. As a matter of fact my suburb has one of the largest populations of this particular Pacific Islander group in North America (Wikipedia). Our local grocery stores know this and we have very interesting food choices.
So anyway if you thought my suburb was all white bread, Ken and Barbie, you were mistaken. When I was in the post office, I felt like I was in the United Nations. And I loved it.