Jake Hook

Sometimes nostalgia gets a bad rap. Like it's some kind of purely reactionary force that keeps people stuck in their ways, resistant to change. But nostalgia can also be a way of sharing memories and forming community. "What we're going for more than anything, we want nostalgia to hit when you eat here,” says Marlo Tornel, who runs Cactus Taquería with his family.

Burrito King, an Echo Park landmark, closed last week. It had been listed for sale for years, including on Facebook Marketplace, but had been unsuccessful in finding a buyer for the space or someone down to pay $6,000 a month for the location. The fate of the business and the small corner building it occupies is unclear as of now. For those who aren't familiar with the elusive charms of Burrito King—where does one begin?

Television has made real strides in how it portrays gay relationships. Where gay characters were once relegated to subplots or stereotypes, many shows now allow them complexity, intimacy, and genuine sexual agency. Gay sex, in particular, is no longer automatically tragic, shameful, or implied off-screen. That progress matters. But for all this newfound visibility, there remains one oddly persistent fantasy: the idea that penetrative gay sex requires no preparation at all.