The rest stop.
The ubiquitous, but necessary, fixture the concrete spiderwebs between cities. A place to stretch one's legs, relax, and get a breath of fresh air (excluding the rest area rest rooms).
It's also a great place to let a thirty year old van catch a breath and cool off.
"Oh, hey. Avis?"
Shoes scuffed on gravel, skittering rocks and raising a small cloud.
"Like, July, Ermac, and me, yeah, like the three of us, I dunno, we don't think Emrys is working out."
It's a great place for a nice quiet conversation, right?