"...So I have to do all of that, and then I'm going over the hill." I sigh, already exhausted.
"Over the hill?"
"To Greensboro. It always seems like a big trip to me. Like I should call everyone and see if they need anything brought back from over the hill."
"I know! It kinda is. Everyone makes it out to be like one big, happy Piedmont, but I don't feel like we're part of the same city, do you?"
"No. We're not. It's two separate cities. And that's OK. Ooh! Know what that reminds me of?" I've had a flash of a memory more than twenty years old.
"So my first day in Connecticut, they told me there was another girl from DC there. So she's brought to me, and I ask her where in DC she's from, and she says... are you ready?... 'Annapolis'."
"Annapolis isn't DC! It's not even the DC area! It's a whole different city!"
"I know! And it's a completely beautiful city! But not the same city! That's what the whole Greensboro/Winston-Salem thing reminds me of."
"Yup. Trickery!" We giggle. "So over the hill, huh?"
"Over the hill."