I am a Detroit native (like Segar for those of you who are trying to figure out why I mentioned it) and I have a "Turn the Page" tale to tell, all of it 100% true (I won't tell the whole story but I'll touch on the relevant points)
I was put into drug rehab (for the second time) when I was 17 (1986) out in Souix City, Iowa. these were the days when it was very fashionable to put you children into drug treatment (not that I didn't need something to slow me down)
After a couple of weeks of hugging and finger pointing asked the cat burgler from NYC to pick my lock on the window so I could hitch my way out to CO. to live with my brother at C.S.U. , I got away wearing two pairs of pants/socks/ three shirts(it was fall) 9 packs of smokes (hey, lay off) and $28, oh yeah, my black leather jacket, well I won't go into all the craziness of getting there but I ended up somewhere north of Norfolk Nebraska with my elbow swollen up like a softball, shoes (Nike hightops, woo hoooo) covered in mud and desperately in need of a haircut (by Nebraska standards)
Here the relevent part, I walk into a family resturant in nowheresville Nebraska wearing my leather jacket, high tops, two pairs of tight pants and long hair and it's luchtime, the place is packed, and as soon as I walk through the door a ripple of silence goes through the whole resturant and heads turn toward me like the wave at the ballpark, I try to ignore the and do the long walk to the lunch counter with 50 pairs of eyes on me.
The whole time I'm there I feel eyes burning in my back and hear "all the same cliches"
Well, thats a small chunk of that trip but thats all you get today, maybe next time i'll tell you about Donnie and Marie and the traveling thieves.