As we step into the small Miss Fitz 260 Café, an elderly Native American gentleman sitting to the side of the entrance tries to sell me a pair of hand-crafted earrings. “I don’t have pierced ears,” I tell him, showing him my earlobes. “That’s okay. I have necklaces, too.” I politely turn him down.
Editor’s Note: This article originally appeared in U.S. Long Cuts. We are merging U.S. Long Cuts with Midwest Wanderer, adding a “Beyond the Midwest” menu option.