Let's say, hyptothetically, that one is not feeling in the mood to cook and decides to pop over to the local deep-country, middle-of-Pennsylvania-nowhere diner to get a dinner to-go (seeing as how, you know, we don't exactly have Applebee's out here in the cornfield). And let's further say that the waiting area for the diner's to-go orders is
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Was this, by any chance, the Old Country Buffet over by the Barnes and Noble and the Old Navy? My little adventure happened over at The Delta Diner in York County (near Whitford on the Mason Dixon Line, just across the Norman Wood Bridge), and the whole time I was leaving there I was like "God, York, serves me right for coming over here, the slime bags". Remind me to tell you how my mom called 911 the other day to report a brush fire she was seeing on the other side of the Susquehanna, and when she got on the horn with the call center even the Lancaster 911 operators were more or less like "York, huh? Just let the shithole burn".
By the way, did you know about this? That we fought a WAR with York County in the 18th Century? Maryland attempted to establish a colony over there, and I have to say--I more or less think the confederate bitches succeded.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cresap's_War
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Now I want to go. That would only be what...178 points right??
SO WORTH IT!
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I can actually eat the mush. It is Core. Polenta is the same thing.
I miss the warm glazed cinnamon buns. I truly do. Jim misses it too. Both of us are telling each other that we "really shouldn't go there for breakfast" on Friday, before we head to Bear Trek. That's our code for "maybe I should really feel him out about the idea of going there for breakfast".
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If you go I want a detailed report.
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