People frequently maintain that living in the Washington, DC area is insolated to the degree that one doesn't understand what the real world is like. This problem is especially acute here in the northern Virginia suburbs, where life has its own special charm. No, it's not Beverly Hills--I think it's more elitist than that ... but I digress.
Our story centers on two fellows who grew up in northern Virginia and spent almost all their time there. Feeling especially free just after their high school graduation, they decided on a trip to see what the rest of the state is like. Before long they found themselves driving southwest, several hundred miles from Washington and through the Appalachian Mountains.
As the afternoon progressed the decision was taken to stop for a brief meal. Unfortunately, the only eatery in sight was a diner that had clearly seen better days. As they slid into the booth small piles of old food went flying and they spent some considerable time wiping up. Their appetites somewhat suppressed, the earlier decision was modified somewhat--perhaps they'd just have coffee.
The waitress appears and begins,
"You guys want menus?"
"No," one replies. "I'll just have a cup of black coffee.