This is what we would call ‘the Pensacola Face.’ Yes, it is small-minded, snobbish, immature…probably offensive. And totally justified. When Chris and I first moved to Pensacola, Florida, Chris spent a Saturday morning in the age-old tradition of fixing his motorcycle. He collected his tools and headed out to the apartment’s parking lot; I followed an hour later to see how he was progressing and bring him a Diet Coke. Our neighbor beat me to it.