Few people had put it like that before. Actually, the people who had could be counted on one hand. "Yeah, maybe you're right," Chris said, almostly distractedly. He looked to the timer on the wash, not really focusing on the numbers, but on it. People were too usually keen on keeping things their way. Not that he was too different either. "Yeah, really." He didn't want to elaborate. He could feel himself about to, ready to go on about how he hadn't really lived there long - only till he was eight and he only came back once or twice - but it meant opening other things.
He went back in the bag, fishing about with still-greasy fingers for something. He found a tupperware with soup, letting that rest on a knee as he wrestled the cover off with a bit of the salty broth coming over onto his jeans. He didn't seem to notice or care. "It's not the best of the west coast, but I'm biased - I never really was one of the east. Things are so much...smaller here. And you guys use too much brick." It didn't feel safe. "In Portland..." He had to think there. Something. "We've got a good zoo? And there's a lot of specialty gardens if you're there in the wrong time of the year."
Any local would be able to point out he wasn't from there for how he phrased it. But truth was, in recent years, he'd mainly investigated in libraries in the area versus other attractions. He did remember some things, from when he was a kid - like that zoo - but they were tinged with the painful other reminders. Like Louise.