For them, the place to go drown their sorrows and be with fellow useless and depressed people is Tortilla Coast.
"T-Coast", as Hill People so cleverly call it, is located on the corner of First and D Street, SE. It has large windows looking out toward the street so Hill People can sit and judge those walking by, while they attempt to ignore the fact that they're drinking crappy beer at a fake Mexican restaurant.
Tortilla Coast, much like Hill People, is not particularly exciting. The ambience is lacking, the food is sub-par, and the drinks are over-priced. It's the restaurant manifestation of a Hill Person. And Hill People love themselves, so it only makes sense for them to love Tortilla Coast.
Tortilla Coast has two main areas: the bar and the dining room. Most Hill People are too poor to spend their money on an actual meal (Their Parents' Money can only go so far), so they choose to gorge on the free chips and salsa while drinking the famous two-flavored margarita. The few Hill People who decide to spring for the table in the dining room usually order a chicken quesadilla to share with 12 people, while they order beer after beer and endless refills of chips and salsa. The servers who work long hours in cheap blue polo shirts are forced to wait on the typical Hill People who spend little, tip less, and have annoying conversations about how important they are.
It's a scientific fact that Hill People like being around other Hill People. This way, when they complain about "constits" or slutty interns, they'll be met with sympathy and understanding, instead of the soul-crushing mockery they so deserve. In addition, Hill People have been known to use Tortilla Coast as a backdrop for their unfortunate and awkward mating rituals. When young, depressed Hill People are well on their way to yet another episode of, "what the hell happened last night", they tend to convince themselves that the staff assistant they met earlier in the evening, who at 6 PM looked like Fergie mid-crystal meth binge, is actually somewhat attractive. This leads to yet another awkward hook-up, which ultimately forces the participants to ignore each other when passing in the halls of Rayburn.
As long as there is a steady supply of Hill People around to enjoy its tacky décor and wallow in unconscious self-pity, Tortilla Coast will remain a prosperous establishment and a reliable atmosphere to observe douchebags in their natural habitat.