Funny Kind of Brush with Fame?

Why is it so fun to read a novel that takes place somewhere you know? Third Person Singular is a mystery by K J Erickson that's set in Minneapolis, where I live (known as Mudville this week), and I got a big kick of out reading about places I know, like the bluffs over the Mississippi River, and this little joint famous for its juicy burgers called Matt's. I will probably never eat at Matt's because a. it's a bar and I don't do alcohol or smoke, and b. I'm a vegetarian. Wow, I sound like such a prude. But I'm not, really. Anyhow, I drive by Matt's all the time, it's nothing to look at, just a hole in the wall neighborhood bar, none of the flash of Famous Dave's or bigger chains. But now every time I go by Matt's I think of that book, and I imagine those characters meeting there for lunch like they do in the book. So it's like I know people who go there, like they're my friends. Only they're fictional. Isn't that odd?