Emily, driving a Ford F-150, pulls up to the Prometheus Bed and Breakfast as directed by the signposts.

Although she is a rare incoming visitor, that's the only unusual thing about her. "Emily" was the most common name for girls in 1996; "Smith" the most common surname. Ford F-150s account for around 5% of all cars on US roads. Emily has $67 in her wallet, just like the median American.

She's wondering if the Bed and Breakfast might be able to serve her a coffee. 66% of Americans drink coffee daily.

The Bed and Breakfast itself?  No.  It's either not sentient, or is sentient but can't move, or is concealing its unnatural abilities.

The dopey-looking elderly man at the front desk of the Bed and Breakfast says that he'll sell her a coffee for a dollar.

Yes. While having only $66 in her wallet makes her very slightly less ordinary, drinking coffee makes up for it. It's a good trade. At some point she'll do something ordinary to get the dollar back.

She buys the coffee and then comments on the weather. As one does.

Meanwhile, she's looking around, taking in as much information as she can about Prometheus. Even the smallest details might help, but she's especially interested in observing people.

Well, if she wants people, she might need to try the Diner.  This is the Bed and Breakfast.  Any people here are still in bed, or maybe already became breakfast.

There's a corkboard full of notices.  The Food Mart got a new food shipment yesterday.  A band composed of three teenage girls will be playing every night at the Diner until further notice.  The gun show is passing through in three days.  Some woman wants an adventurous man to kill the "big-ass rats in my basement" in exchange for $20 or "a favor", no small-arms fire allowed.  Martha wants her daughter married off and is doubling the standing bounty.  Bob got loose again, please call this number if you see Bob.  If any Jewish men are passing through please be at the following location each Sabbath morning at 9:05am sharp.

Most of the notices are for men, and don't seem to pertain to Emily. Probably it would be weird to offer to kill the big-ass rats and then only ask one dollar for it.

"Who's Bob, why is it news that he got loose, how do I recognize him, and is he dangerous?"

"Oh, that's Sally's boy.  Don't worry, he's very friendly!  You'll know 'im if you see 'im, he's always wearing those ears.  I wouldn't go looking for 'im, though, the reward's nothing to write home about and he'll probably just get loose again a week later."

Emily nods in thanks, then pulls out a scrap of paper and a pen from her purse and scrawls her own notice.

"WORK WANTED: Regular office or retail job. Will show up most of the time and do a decent job. All offers considered." She writes her cell number and tacks the notice to the board.

She tips her non-existent hat at the dopey man and heads over to check out the Diner. Anything notable along the way?

There's what looks like a really, really small church.  You could fit maybe twelve people in there if they didn't try to sit down.  It's got a cross on top and a billboard with letters that currently spell out, "THE FEAR OF GOD IS THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM, NOT THE END".

A lady rides past on an e-bike, primly sitting sidesaddle on the seat since there's no need for the foot-pedals.

A man is pushing a carriage with two toddlers, trudging very very slowly down the sidewalk of the town's main and possibly only street.

The Diner could fit in a lot more people than the tiny church!  Maybe this town's true god is the feasting, the devouring of flesh.

The three girls from the band poster are in one corner sharing a stack of pancakes, neatly diving each pancake into thirds as they take it off the stack.

An old lady sips from a vast glass stein of what looks like beer, casting a gimlet gaze in one direction or another.  It settles briefly on the protagonist and squints before moving on.

A young man and an equally young woman are dressed as for a date, seated side by side, and both typing into their phones.

A toddler sits at a table, alone, carefully eating french fries one at a time with ketchup.  Neither the table nor their face has become messy yet.

A menu offers pancakes, hamburgers, fries, sausages, fried fish, and chicken masala.  A drinks menu lists mocktails and you can have a shot of pure vodka added to any of them for an extra dollar.  There's also a prominent option for "FOOD AND DRINK $5".

Is there a bartender or a waitress or anyone like that?

There's EXTRA bartender.  She's got a scar closing her right eye, wears a leather apron over a green T-shirt, and looks like she could take all three band girls plus the toddler singlehandedly.

She's polishing a mug behind the cash register, and every now and then casts a look at the old lady sipping her beer.

Aha! This may be the right person to talk to. The dopey guy at the Bed and Breakfast sure wasn't.

Emily approaches the bartender. "What's good for lunch? I'm happy to order whatever's most popular."

"Think I'm supposed to say the most popular menu item is whichever one has the highest profit margin, but darned if I can remember that from day to day when the supply prices are always changing.  French fries are the most commonly bought item, in the sense that most other plates come with french fries.  But are they popular?  Would people voluntarily pay for french fries if they weren't included with so many orders?"

"I have to say, usually when newcomers drop by they aren't asking such deep questions."

Well, that's Emily's cue to ask fewer deep questions!

"I'd like some french fries, please." Her stomach rumbles. "And, uh, the sausages too. Unless fries are included with the sausages. Then just the sausages, and the fries that come with them."

She should stop talking, it's getting weird.

"Oh, wait, do I need to order a drink also for it to be FOOD AND DRINK? If so then I'd also like the... No Tequila Mockingbird?"

"Oh, the food and drink version is when you're willing to take whatever we give you.  If you specifically want sausage, fries, and a No Tequila Mockingbird that'll be eight dollars, unless you want a shot of vodka added in which case it's nine dollars."

"We also take silver if you've got it."

Did Emily seem like she was trying to be specific about what she wanted? She was explicitly trying to be non-specific!

"Let me try the FOOD AND DRINK then!"

Surely there's nothing at all weird about the FOOD AND DRINK, nor about ordering it.

"Food and a drink coming right up!  That'll be five dollars payable on delivery."  She bustles off through a curtain behind the counter.

Meanwhile Emily will nonchalantly observe the other patrons of the Diner, trying to decide which one looks the most promising, in case the bartender is not the one after all. Sometimes it takes a while to find the right one.

The toddler is a contender.

Gimlet Gaze lady could go either way. Sometimes the squinty ones are just busybodies.

The toddler returns her gaze evenly, showing no fear, and quite deliberately puts ketchup on another french fry before eating it.

If that's an ordinary toddler, she can afford to break character a little bit. Might as well give it a try.

She focuses fiercely at the toddler.

ARE YOU THE ONE? she thinks loudly.

WHAT DO I GET IF I SAY YES?

DON'T BE COY. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO HELP ME. OR SO I WAS TOLD.

I CAN HELP YOU EAT FRENCH FRIES.

DO YOU THINK I'M GOING TO NEED HELP WITH THAT? I REALLY THOUGHT THAT PART WAS GOING TO GO OKAY.

SOME FRENCH FRIES ARE MORE VICIOUS THAN OTHERS.  BUT I AM MIGHTIER THAN THEY.