A young woman, I’d guess aged 19 or 20, on the phone.  What I hear: “Yeah.  She’s from Littleton.  Littleton, Colorado.” [Pause]  “Yes, I’m sure she’s sick of that.”

These are the towns nobody had ever heard of, until one day everyone had heard of.  “Yes.  I’m from Waco.“  Great.  An immediate  mental image is conjured up. 

“Anyone here from Ruby Ridge?”

Oh.  You’re from Jena, Louisiana?

Can we get a Wasilla?

Another overheard conversation.  “You look like that Obama spokesperson, can’t think of his name.”
“Yeah I can see that.”

I interject, fumbling through my mind a bad answer.  “Axelrod?”

“No.  Not him.  Hm.”

The answer was, in case you’re curious, looking it up just now, Gibbs.

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