I was remembering an old story the other day about a businessman barreling through the countryside in his Lincoln Town Car. The guy is hopelessly lost and stops in a little, one-horse town he happens upon, pulling into a service station in the days when service stations were actually service stations. The attendant saunters out, chewing on a straw, and asks the man what he needs.
“I’m lost,” the businessman confesses.
The gas station attendant squints at the driver and asks, “Do you know where you are?”
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