Before long you find a gravel drive that turns off this road, with a sign that says Keystone State Fuel Oil and Heating. Though it’s the weekend and the place is probably closed, you decide to see if anyone’s there. One side of the drive is lined with a chain-link fence, and atop every few posts there must be a security camera because as you walk, a synthetic voice intones “Hello. You are being recorded. Hello. You are being recorded. Hello. You are being recorded.”
The rest of the weekend was pretty uneventful.