trying to get to "the Mission" with Phoebe
I'm driving a car. Phoebe is in the passenger seat. We're late to the prom and are lost. I'm in a bitchy mood, snapping at Phoebe, asking her to look at a map to direct which way we should go. I look at a beige pamphlet on the dashboard; it says that we're trying to get to "the Mission." I get the feeling that we are near San Francisco.
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