"Holy crap, you're fancy," said Lynn as we drove through Spokane in my 2010 Prius. She was gesturing to the antiquated GPS display in the dashboard. "Do you use it? Let's use it!"
When we arrived at the Picnic Pines diner-dump, I stopped to take a selfie with the restaurant in the background. This was for Mariko, with whom I'd frequented the diner-dump while in grad school.
Immediately, a burly employee burst out of the kitchen. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
"Um. Taking a picture?" I was confused. I knew from the food and hygiene that this was not an Amish restaurant.
"Of the bathroom?!"
"Huh? No, of...myself....oh." I looked in front of me. There was the bathroom. An outbuilding, naturally. "This is a backward-facing camera," I explained.
"Oh," he said, relieved for some reason. "We...we don't have fancy phones around here."