I stopped for lunch today in Virginia City, Montana, an old ghost town. I went to the only open establishment, the Outlaw Cafe and Antique Shop, ordered food and wrote a bunch of postcards. Everything else was either, well, ghosted or closed for the season, as places do over here I’m finding. Blowing in the doorway, I activated the [loud] bell and three tables of folks all looked up at me. That girl ain’t from around here. I was suddenly in a movie.
Hostess/owner/waitress/cook: “Well hi honey, where are you traveling from?”
Pance [stunned]: “New York.”
HOWC: “Wow, well, you’re certainly a long way from home.”
Yes. Yes, I am a long way from home. And from this century too, apparently.