We packed. We left. We stopped in Wall (again) for the greasiest breakfast this side of the Mississippi Seriously- It was butter, with some eggs and hashbrowns thrown in for spite. You wanna fuck up a server in SD? Ask them if they have eggbeaters. I heard the crickets. And this gally must have only been used to dealing with seniors, ‘cause I swear she was shouting at us. "HOW Y’ALL DOIN? CAN I START Y’ALL OFF WITH A BEE-VERAGE?" We poked around some more store sand I ended up buying a "Badlands Bar" T-shirt , but not a bear hat. ("I don’t think I can justify buying this bear hat, honey").
The day was fixing to be another hot one, so we slathered up again before shoving off and heading home. ("Can you imagine actually living here?"/"Honey, shhhhhh") Even though the "Visit Wall Drug" signs thinned out, we were still being assaulted by "Visit Rushmore" billboards. ("Pushy fuckers, aren’t they?")
We decided to switch driving roles in Mitchell and do a quick stop in to see the Corn Palace ("What is this place?"/"Hell…Corn Hell") and to grab a beverage. This next part is important, and requires an explanation: How can a sports bar and grill, ONLY server beer and wine? Right. Before leaving, the server pointed us to the casino/bar across the street for our refreshment needs. It was classic. Sawdust on the floor. Brassiere’s hanging from ceiling fans. Swivelling barstools that pointed away from the bar, forcing one to hold onto the bar for dear life. Ann Geddes prints where the baby heads moved. ("What is that?"/"Pure...evil")
And get this: Advertisements for Midget Wrestling. Tonight, and tonight only. Apparently they came through last year and were quite popular. The midgies were billed over "Rockin’ Jake" and "Beautiful Girls" with some gallies glamour shot Xeroxed on there. A grandfather with his granddaughter across the bar informed us that one year there was mud wrestling. "Oh, midget mud wrestling?"/"Nope. Them’s was strippers"…("GrandPA! Do you HAVE to tell the mud wrestling stripper story a-GAIN?!") Having had enough of this supremely surreal experience, we bolted…but not before Moses tried to get me to buy the $2 trucker hat that exclaimed: "If it’s got Tires or Titties it’ll give ya problems".
"Can you imagine actually living here?"
5 hours later…We were home. Mipples. And a fitful exhausted nights sleep.
I really want to go back soon. Very soon.
For those interested in Mitchell- http://www.cornpalace.org/
1 comment:
I am jealous, very jealous - but its good to have you back.
Post a Comment