As always this has not been proof read for errors.
Somewhere in Iowa, traveling west on I-80, I entered a construction zone that narrowed the road to one lane. Having already driven 350 miles I wanted to reach my destination and end the day’s journey. Traffic slowed to 20 MPH at which time I reach the top of a smal hill. As I begin down the hill I was confronted with the view of an interstate stretching several miles ahead and every mile lined with vehicles bumper to bumper. My day is getting better and better!
As travel slows to a crawl I noticed, in the closed lane several car lengths ahead, a man bent over doing something. As I got closer I can see he is bent over spray painting a yellow line parallel to traffic. He was also carrying a case of cans to be used in the completion of his duties. When my vehicle was close enough to talk to him this is how the exchange went:
Me: “Why are you painting the line with just spray cans?” “You don’t you have a machine for that?”
Road Worker: “The #^%* line painting is broken!”
Me: “How far do you have to paint a yellow line?”
Road Worker: “All the way!”
Me: “How far would say ‘all the way’ be?”
Road Worker: “Four $%^^%$#$ miles!”
Traffic moved on and I was unable to continue our conversation. I wanted to find out more. I figured that he must have had a bad attitude so his supervisor put him on line painting duties to get him away from everyone else. Regardless, this was strange but it gets even more bizarre.
After that exchange with the road worker I notice the low fuel light was on in my vehicle. This was the first time it had come in since taking delivery of it in April and I was not sure how far I could drive before refueling.
Meanwhile, traffic continued to creep along for another twenty minutes before exiting the construction zone and resuming the recommended maximum speed limit. I say “recommended” because I’ve always considered speed limits just a suggestion. Anyway, I need fuel and soon!
By this time I’m getting a little worried, this is Iowa and there’s nothing in Iowa. I pass two exits with nothing at either. When I reach the off ramp for the third exit, BINGO, signs of life! As my car come to a stop at the end of the ramp I’m face with three choices: Buddies Boats 4 U, Larissa’s Adult Superstore, and a Phillip 66 combination mini-mart, camping ground, and “Burger and Fry Emporium.” No kidding, it was called the burger and fry emporium.
Well, I need fuel and today isn’t the day to find out how far my vehicle will travel with the low fuel light on. I pull into the combination fuel-camp ground-eatery thinking that this will be a routine fill-up and notice a motorcycle following me in. I park at the pump, get out of the vehicle and begin the process of swiping my fleet card and fueling my vehicle. The cyclist is now pulling up to the pump behind me. I watch as the biker sets the kickstand and gets off the bike. His passenger, probably his 7-8 year old son or daughter, falls off the bike. As he helps him or her up I hear the youngster, who is dressed in all leather including a full face helmet say: “@#$% that hurt!” He brushes the youngster off as she removes her helmet. Yes, I said she. When the helmet is fully off I notice she is a midget. Dressed all in black leather! Now I know I’m staring so I quickly look away.
At the same the biker stuff is going on, there is a guy on the other side of my pump crawling around on the ground, like a dog, looking for something. As I looked at him he looked up at me and this is how our exchange went:
Me: “did you loose something?”
Dog man: “No, I’m looking at the undercarriage of my car”
Me: “Did you hit something or is something wrong with it.”
Dog man: “Nope, just looking to see what’s under there.”
It gets better. Now pulling into the emporium, on the other side of the man crawling around his car is an old Ford truck with a slide in camper. An older man gets out of the cab and begins to fuel the vehicle. Trying to avoid staring at the midget biker chick and watching the dog man, I watch the old guy reach up and pound the palm of his hand on the side of the camper. Within a couple of seconds the door of the camper swings open, a small wooden ladder falls to the ground, and a half dozen older folks begin, one at a time, slowly stepping down and out. It was like watching a bunch of circus clowns pile out of a small car…they just kept coming! The first women hits the ground walks around to the old man fueling the truck, shouts something about his driving while she slaps the heck out of him. I quickly looked away.
The pump kicked off and I, without hesitation, put the handle back in the pump, replaced my gas cap, shut the fuel door all in one smooth motion and while avoiding eye contact with the midget biker chick, the old man, the old women, and the crew standing behind the camper. I grabbed my receipt and reluctantly headed inside for a bathroom break and a diet Pepsi. As I enter the gas-camping-mini-mart-burger-fry emporium I see a set of glass front soft drink coolers and above them is a sign stating: “Free Bathrooms – Men’s and Women’s” with an arrow pointing left to a dark hallway. “Free Bathrooms:” I’ve never paid a gas station to use their bathroom. Anyway the first door I pass has a picture of women on it. Everything being equal then door number two must be the men’s room. WRONG, it was another women’s bathroom and there was a woman in it. She screamed: “Get out!” and I quickly looked away and got out. Door number three, which I had seen before entering door number two, had no sign above it and a spring nailed to the frame which was holding it closed. I thought door three was broom closet or something. As fate would have it, it was the men’s room.
Shaken but relieved, I run down the list: Fuel – done, Bathroom – done, next a diet Pepsi. I grab my diet Pepsi and head for the checkout, all the while avoiding eye contact with the midget biker chick, the old women who slapped her husband, and now the lady from the bathroom, who are all in the line in front of me. I notice the lifesavers down the isle behind me and decided browse, get one pack of lifesavers which will buy myself time away from the line. This way I wont have to feel uncomfortable as everyone paid and passed by me on their way out the door of the mini-mart-fuel-camping-burger and fry emporium. As I turned, there in the isle blocking my way was an old women and man. I didn’t have the heart to excuse myself and try and pass by them in the narrow isle so I circled around the coolers and down another isle. Turning again around the corner of another isle and passing the burger and fry portion of the travel emporium, I fail to notice the step up. Well, I tripped. As I caught myself from falling I knocked one of the napkins holders to the floor. This caused the store clerk, who I will get to in a minute, the biker midget chick, the mean old lady, and the women from the bathroom, and now the old couple in the isle to turn to see what I had happened. As they all looked at me, I looked at them. I quickly looked away and headed to the lifesavers as if nothing had happened.
I didn’t think it could get any weirder but it did. When the women from the bathroom walked away from the counter I got back in line but now I’m behind the old couple. As I look behind the counter I see a blind albino women sitting at an empty desk. She begins shouting things I can’t understand and laughing as if she has just prophesied something we all should know. It was creepy and I quickly looked away.
After paying, I got back in my car with my diet Pepsi, three packages of lifesavers, and two packages of gum. I know, I said that I was going for a single pack of lifesavers but I staled for time so long that I didn’t want the store clerk to think I was a shoplifter. Anyway, as I pulled away I began thinking about that whole bizarre experience. It was a sideshow. The Phillip 66 Camp Ground Mini-mart Burger and Fry emporium and now we can add sideshow to the title