"Samantha on a Thursday, Kill Devil Hills"
The snack machine's empty, and most of the soda machine's buttons are rusted to the point that she doesn't trust them one bit. The pool's got water in it, but the clairity is (at best) uncertain. Not that even she would jump in this time of year. The men in the bars are as out of season as enerything else in this February beach town, but she understands the concept that even in a cute top and little skirt, beggars can't always be choosers.