Ceiling’s this faint bluish like the sky. Got this certain kinda glint about it. Flies won’t settle on it, that’s for sure. I’ve watched ’em. Never seen one dare. They’re allergic—that’s what it is. Must be. Something in the paint. Sidewalls is stock white with a teeny bit a peach throwed in. Just a drip. Gives a glow in midday. Truly. Subtle like. Seats is all green like youse settin’ in a cool area with bushes all around. Floor’s deep brown—as much like dirt as possible— outdoors. Make it look as much like a picnic as you possibly can. Stimulates the appetite. People seem to enjoy that. Sell a lotta cobbler that way. A whole lotta cobbler. Sells trinkets too. Silver and whatnots. Turquoise and knickknacks. Them little sombrero ashtray dealies. Sold a lotta them. Time was, me and the wife’d take that yellow Coupe DeVille out to Gallop and back. Think nothin’ of it, trip like that. Jest pick us up and go. Back when pawn was cheap. Load up on that Indian stuff, then drag it back here to the cafe and sell it. No law against it. Sell it right here at the counter alongside the glazed doughnuts and the chewing gum. Folks’d pause there at the cash register waitin’ to pay their bill and their eye’d get caught on all that Indian stuff. Specially easterners. They never seen anything like it. Silver concho belts and feathered war bonnets and whatnot. You could get that stuff cheap back then. They’d walk outta here with an armload a stuff cost ten times what their meal did. They was happy about it too. We towed us a four-horse slat-sided trailer along behind that Coupe DeVille back then and lemme tell ya we loaded her right to the gills. Put over 400,000 miles on that Coupe back and forth to Gallop. Me and the wife. Course we went other places too. Side trips. Went clear on out to Ludlow, California, once for “Mule Days.” That was somethin’. Camped right out under the stars too. Never seen so many. Desert seems to bring ’em out more. Went up to Santa Fe once too but that was a different deal. I’ll tell ya somethin’—I was born and raised right down there close to Las Cruces, near the Staked Plains country, but when me and the wife went on up there to Santa Fe that was the first time in my life I ever felt like a foreigner. And I’ll grant you I never been to Europe or across the pond at all but that was the very first time I ever felt like I didn’t belong someplace. Didn’t like that feeling one little bit. Me and the wife were sure glad to get back here to the cafe after that. Truth is I’d rather stay home anymore. Just ain’t worth venturing out. No bargains left to speak of. Somebody’s already put a price on it, seems like.