Coffee, elevators and food replicators.

My characters are interacting interspaced with explanations of all the technologies that they are encountering in their futuristic world. Currently it consists of space stations, lunar bases, L5 habitats and a rapidly developing Fusion Pile technology which will revolutionize the trans-earth universe.

.... on the topic of the meet up in Harrisonburg at Panera's --- since Panera's is right across the street from Barnes and Noble one could send any serious excess over to B&N but neither venue can handle much more than maybe 12 without being a bit disruptive of ordinary business.

Cheers, Ray

"How do I know what I think until I see what I type."

Hmmm, well I don't have my story with me at the moment, since I'm at work, but I think the line goes something like this: (Darby's father is talking to her on the phone after she tells him her friends canceled on her and she's decided not to go to Wyoming. He just finished giving her reasons to go.) "You can always come here to crash. We could go camping in the Shenandoah or hiking on the C&O Canal, or even head up to the Poconos for a few days, if you want. I've got my boss eating out of my hand. His bowl is in the dishwasher, and we're almost out of Pedigree."

Here's the exact quote from my story that I didn't have the other day:

“Any time. If you decide not to go, you’re always welcome to crash with me. We can go camping in the Shenandoah, go hiking along the C&O Canal; hell, we could drive up to the Poconos, if you want. I got my boss eating out of my hand. His bowl’s in the dishwasher, and we’re almost out of Pedigree. I haven’t been to the store in two weeks.”

And, here's another that I like:

Her dad, who worked from home as a rock climbing instructor, and who carried his cell with him everywhere he went, was almost always only a ring tone away.

She took a tentative step forward, then another, and she instantly saw what had been making the rustling sound she had heard in the leaves. At least twenty feet away, its body almost completely hidden by the brush, sat a gigantic moose, with antlers that reached into the canopy of the trees above. Her breath caught in her throat and she froze for a moment, her eyes locked on those of the animal, who remained staring at her, interested, but apparently not worried. Perhaps it was the distance away at which it rested from her, or maybe it was his sheer size compared to hers, but it seemed utterly unconcerned of her presence, and it soon turned its head to the side to gaze at something more interesting than she.

I think this is my favorite part so far:

Darby was pulled from her reverie by the brazen whinny of an Arabian mare standing within the paddock, fifteen feet away. She quickened her pace, hurrying over to the several horses grazing within the fenced-in area in front of the barn. Reaching out her hand, she touched the nose of a pretty, chocolate brown horse, which stepped closer and nuzzled her hand. Darby laughed.
“You are a friendly one, aren’t you,” she cooed at the animal which was obviously used to being petted.
“She’s our best employee,” a voice called, and Darby glanced toward the stable, not removing her hand from the horse’s mane. “Of the animals, that is.” A young man with dark hair was making his way around the fence toward her, having just tossed a bale of hay casually next to the fence. How completely stereotypical, Darby thought, eyeing the man, who wore a red flannel long sleeved shirt, stone-washed jeans, and black leather boots, topped off with a white Stetson. Wow, an actual cowboy, she thought. Well, almost.
He wasn’t herding cows, but he certainly fit the bill of any cowboy Darby had ever seen on television.
“So, how may I be of service,” he said with an unmistakable western accent. Did he do that for all the girls, she wondered, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’ve got my number already? Damn, you’re quick,” he said, pulling off his hat with one hand and wiping his brow with the other, quickly replacing the hat and rubbing his right hand against his jeans quickly before holding it out to her. “I’m Art,” he said, without a trace of his previous affected accent.
“Hi,” she said, shaking his hand and smirking slightly at his manner. “I’m Darby.”
“Darby, wow. That’s a great name.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling brightly and turning back to the horses. “So, I take it you’re the wrangler.”
“Well, no, not quite. I admit I know how to wrangle cows, and hogs for that matter, but I’m just a lowly horse back riding tour guide.”
“Great, then you’re the man I need to talk to about a tour, huh?”
“At your service,” he said, bowing low to the ground with sweeping gestures of his arms.
“Okay, then,” Darby said, not sure whether she should be amused or concerned. Art was not your typical flamboyant rake in cowboy’s clothing. He was, well, hot. He was thin for a man of probably about mid-twenties, and one of his stature, but his face was clean-shaven, almost baby-faced, and his very dark brown hair contracted starkly with his bright green eyes. She quickly shifted her gaze away from his face, as his eyes met hers for the briefest of instants, and she again allowed her field of vision to rest solely with the horses.
“So, when would be a good time to sign up…for a tour, I mean,” she said, with as much calmness as she could harness.
“The first group rides at nine,” he said, turning to a clipboard which hung from the barn a few yards away, and returning within seconds, gazing down at the list of names already marked on the schedule. “I have two open spots for that time, and a few for the next session at eleven.”
“Nine o’clock sounds perfect,” Darby said, taking the pencil on a string that he offered her.
“Will it be just you then, no boyfriend or sister, or strict but kindly old grandmother?”
“No,” she laughed, shaking her head in needless emphasis. “No, it’s just me. My friends actually left me hanging, so…”
“The nerve,” he gasped. “The cruelty.”
“So,” she continued a little more loudly, though unable to hide her smirk. “I came on this adventure myself..."

Sorry, had to truncate it, because it's a little long, but that's the best part anyway.