A few weeks ago, in Appalachia, I walked into a little shack where they served me up a hot dog before I went on the tourist-y white water rafting trip offered by the same little outfit. There were several of the place's employees (local kids, ~17 years old-ish) standing around. When I opened the door, their conversations gave way to all of them saying "city bob, city bob", over and over, like I wouldn't understand, or have never heard the tale of two Bobs, or whatever. Then, the four of them dissolve, the girl who takes my food order can't look me in the eye, and the rest of the 60 seconds spent getting a hot dog is super awkward for them. I decided that the culprit was my shirt, which has a lot of fine detail work on it, it's a pretty unique T.
But yeah, they must really hate people like me, y'know, for uhhhh... living in the city. It's funny, because I would wager a fair bit of money that I've spent more nights in a tent than they ever will.