the brain says, “A diner! I love diners,” and the genitals agree, “This is a restaurant, we could eat here,” unless there’s some pretty compelling reason not to, like a bunch of drunks brawling outside. Even then, if our friends on vacation came across that diner with a brawl outside, the genitals might still say, “This is a restaurant,” even as the brain dragged her away, shouting, “Let’s get out of here! Call the cops!”
