Victor Ramírez has a plastic blue apron tied tight around his wiry frame as he waits in the sun for lunchtime customers, just as he has done for decades.
But even though the afternoon is advancing, the 20-odd tables inside the “Cantina The Return” are laid and the television sets bolted to its peach-coloured walls are blaring a normally irresistible cocktail of soaps and sport, only a couple of people have turned up.
