I’m sitting in Babb’s Coffee House in downtown Fargo, North Dakota.

The Space Needle rises between the words “Coffee” and “House” in their logo, and underneath, it reads, “…a taste of Seattle.” Nothing says, “We’re ashamed of our hometown,” like a slogan that invokes a larger, hipper city. “Sure, we’re in Fargo, but we’re in touch with Seattle.”

Well, the marketing worked anyway, because here we are, luxuriating in the natural light, exposed brick, wireless internet access, rich wood accents, world music, and expensive coffee beverages. My Cinnamon Roll-flavored gas station cappuccino, an earlier purchase, is sitting in the cupholder of our Spectra, awaiting my return.

Incidentally, NTC is sending me to the real Seattle in early November. They’re recording some of their sketches there. I hope to see an Alaska friend or two while in Seattle.

If I lived in Fargo, I’d probably come here a lot. Mainly because there really doesn’t seem to be anything else to do. Yesterday, Mike and I had a similar mid-day chunk of time to kill in Fargo. We drove downtown. After unsuccessfully searching for a way to occupy ourselves, we decided to cut our losses and return to the hotel.

One of the baristas has a Kermit the Frog voice. I thought she was doing a funny voice at first. But it’s her real voice. Now I feel bad.

Our first show this morning was fine, although we were let into the performance space (our first real theatre!) about the same time as the kids. We set up while they watched.

We’ll eat soon, and then head off to Hunter, North Dakota for a 2:30 PM show.

Tonight: Grand Forks.