You find yourself in a dingy little Service Cafe.
In fact you as a hardened adventurer seem out of place here, as you do not possess a large beer gut, dirty clothes, burnt out fag, and letch look. As you enter all the patrons of this establishment turn to stare at you...making you feel most unwelcome in fact.
But you do not fear anything, especially in a mere Service Cafe, and stride up to the bar with a swagger.
The M1 leads north and south, whilst there is a storeroom to the west, and stairs lead up behind the bar to the kitchens.