"Don't try to go so fast and you won't fall down," suggested Pembroke. "You're in too much of a hurry. Also those fake flowers on your blouse make you look frumpy."
"Well, I'm supposed to look frumpy," the woman retorted. "That's the type of person I am. But you can look frumpy and still walk natural, can't you? Everyone says you can."
"Well, they've got a point," said Pembroke. "Incidentally, just where are we, anyway? What city is this?"
"Puerto Pacifico," she told him. "Isn't that a lovely name? It means peaceful port. In Spanish."
That was fine. At least he now knew where he was. But as he left the shop he began checking off every west coast state, city, town, and inlet. None, to the best of his knowledge, was called Puerto Pacifico.
He headed for the nearest service station and asked for a map. The attendant gave him one which showed the city, but nothing beyond.
"Which way is it to San Francisco?" asked Pembroke.
"That all depends on where you are," the boy returned.
"Okay, then where am I?"
"Pardon me, there's a customer," the boy said. "This is Puerto Pacifico."