"Old-time Peace and Tranquility"
When a town uses words to describe itself like old-time, tranquil, and quaint, you pretty much know you're not in a happening burb. New Windsor, Maryland, founded in 1797, boasts that it's been "untouched by growth since WWII." Uh huh.
I got into my cheap red rental Chevy Aveo at BWI and drove out in the rain, pulling into town with the radio blaring first with Ricky Martin's La Vida Loca followed immediately by John Lennon's Imagine. (An odd juxtaposition at best.)
I travel light. But somehow, my little bag was locked in the tiny hatch, and after manuevering the key until I had run out of ideas, I finally let my co-workers take a crack at the puzzle. Quandry solved, I dragged myself and my trappings up the stairs, not knowing the coup de grace was still to come.
Dinner. My co-worker leaned over and said, "The Road Kill is really good." I'm not too fussy, but having a meal named road kill doesn't sit well with me. I'll eat goat in the Sahara if need be, but I'm not eating anything called road kill, even if it's not. I mused over the Rattlesnake Bites and Chicken Critter Salad, and decided whatever I ate (which turned out to be a burger with no fancy name), I definitely needed beer.