Coffee with a Lot Lizard and a Sapp Brother

Jumbo art silos caught me off guard on my return from Boys Town. Vinyl condoms printed with digital farmland images clung to the side of the shaft exposed to freeway bound commuters. The other side of these abandoned grain bins have been transformed into an extreme climbing wall for prairie dwellers. A fun fact to those of you traveling in my footsteps, recreating your own version of this adventure: don't slow down to 35mph on this particular stretch of highway - other drivers will honk at you, ride your ass and make ghastly hand motions. I'm still trying to figure out what it means when someone grabs their right wrist with their left hand, sliding it up and down their forearm while hanging out their window screaming, "I ruin your hole!"

After drowning in Olive Garden slop courtesy Leo, I rolled my chub into the ATM and headed out for one last photo-op before my time at the Compound came to an end. Being that I love me some coffee, the Sapp Brothers' water tower turned percolating coffee pot became my final destination. You can smell the 24 million cups of piping hot java from I-80 Exit 440. As sun hits horizon the percolator flashes red letting all passing semitrailers and motorists know that they are approaching a world of wonderment.

The Sapp brothers operate hundreds of truck stops throughout the Midwest. It just so happens that truck stops are the natural habitat for the elusive Lot Lizard. What is a Lot Lizard you may ask? Well friends, a Lot Lizard is a special type of woman who trolls parking lots looking to make a buck. A nocturnal bunch that communicate with truckers via window knocks; 1 tap for handies, 2 for a mouthful and 3 for anything goes. After an encounter with a Lizard one usually ends up at either a health clinic or 24 hour cafe, those below the Sapp Brothers' coffee pot don't have far to walk.

You have had some lovin' and some grub but there seems to be something missing that you can't quite put you finger on - then it hits you, the good Lord Jesus Christ. Sapp Brothers have you covered there too. No more than a Lot Lizard's panty toss from the cab of your truck is the Mobile Chapel.

To bid me a fond farewell Rooster and Hen pulled together a swell sendoff parade that started in their wing of the Compound and ended in my guest room. You should have seen old Hen wrapped in chicken wire stuffed with red, white and blue napkins. She looked like a glorious Ms. 4th of July with sparklers in each hand. Rooster's head was topped off with one of those fuzzy tubes found on members of the Irish Guard while humming Steam's Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye. The next morning I packed the ATM once more for what I thought would be the longest leg of the race, but ended up being second - right behind my 14 hour ass burner from Wyoming to Leo's place in Griswold, IA.