On the counter at the Dew Drop Inn was a revolving rack of postcards, but I was distracted by the blonde behind the counter.
"Do you have a view of the volcano?" I asked.
She scratched her chin. "Erupting or non-erupting?"
"Erupting," I said.
"Then no," she said.
"So why did you give me a choice?"
"To see if you would choose correctly, but you did not, therefore I must ask you to leave."
"What? That's preposterous!"
"Please leave quietly, sir, unless you prefer to talk to our security man?"
"I don't give a darn about your old postcards anyway! I'll draw my own!"
"Suit yourself, sir. NEXT!"