It took about three minutes for the unassuming Waffle House to become the new offices of the law firm of Amber, Amber, Amber, and Madison. They set up camp in a clump of booths in the corner opposite from us. A few of them gave me an "oh, good, you are still alive" nod, but for the most part, they had no interest in anyone else.

It rang and it rand and it rang. I looked at the screen one last time, then at Stuart, and then I reached my arm back and threw the phone as hard as I could (sadly, not that far), and it vanished into the snow. The eight-year-olds, who were truly fascinated with our every move at this point, chased after it. 'Lost it,' I said. 'Whoops.

Also, when on a campaign to convince a stranger that you aren't a few fries short of a Happy Meal, throwing around phrases like "tangentially Swedish" is not the best way to go.

Can I tell you something you really don't want to hear? He's going to break up with you. - Stuart

Something about her suggested that her leisure activities included wrestling large woodland animals and banging bricks together.

Hey! Jack the Wanker! Over here! I want your autograph!

And if we get caught, I will claim I made you go. At gunpoint. I am American. People will assume I'm armed.