We’re on our way to Massachusetts to help our son with his new house. We drove 550 miles to Waterloo, Iowa the first day to get a good chunk of the 1,750 miles out of the way. After checking in to our motel, we walked across the parking lot of the ghostly Crossroads Mall to the freestanding Applebee's restaurant. The place was only half full, but the hostess said it would be a thirty minute wait because they didn't have enough chefs. That’s probably not what the Applebee’s employee handbook would recommend a guest be told.
I suggested a drink at the bar while we waited. I'll call our bartender Paul. He was young and had an Aztec profile. His curly hair was in a ponytail. He was mostly busy organizing big bags of takeout. He eventually took our drink order and said we could put in our supper order.
Across the bar was a tough looking middle aged guy working on the second beer chaser to his mixed drink. He had a backwards Chicago cap and a red Harley sweatshirt. I'll call him Rod.
The waitress's shirts said " Bring me Mana." We asked Paul about that. He held up a bottle of tequila. Applebee's own brand. Comprende, we said.
People walked in, showed Paul a code on their phone, and walked out with their bag of takeout. As the evening wore on, several black patrons arrived at the bar. It was fun watching all the interactions. Had we spent a couple of more hours there, we all would have become jolly friends.
We watched Paul mixing up Oreo milkshakes. I suggested he throw in some Mana. He would become a legend. Then a waitress came and mixed up a milkshake. Paul gave her grief. I'm telling ma, she said.
Meanwhile, Rod received his third tallboy beer. He was chatting with Paul and the waitresses. He was obviously a regular. Perhaps the manager.
Teresa asked Paul what people in Waterloo did for work. Restaurants? He guessed. There's lots of food trucks, he said. Teresa suggested agriculture. Yes, he said. Agriculture and the John Deere factory.
After our salads, Paul said there was a special on milkshakes that night. We ordered an Oreo jobbie, with two straws. True love. Pau’s sister Ruth made another milkshake, but there was too much in the blender for the takeout cup. Teresa caught Ruth's eye and Ruth poured the surplus into our glass. Teresa told her that hers was better than her brother's.
Across the bar, Paul delivered three Coronas to two gentlemen. There was a misunderstanding and they had only wanted two Coronas. I almost made eye contact with Paul , but the hour was late.
We paid our bill, waved goodbye to Rod and Paul and walked home across the unlit acres of the mall parking lot.
End of Day One.
On Day Two, we found a motel in Elkhart, Indiana. There were lots of Texas plates in the parking lot. As we unloaded, I noticed a bunch of young guys under some low trees across from the motel entrance. They were speaking Spanish. There was music playing. Beer was being drunk. It was the Labor Day holiday.
When we checked in, the manager said pizza would be served for the next hour. Another group of the Texans was eating pizza in the breakfast area. Soon they would be playing volleyball in the courtyard. I realized this was an extended stay place.
It was after eight by the time we went out for supper. A lot of restaurants were closed because of the holiday. The Flippin' Cow was closing at nine, but a guy who said he didn't work there seated us at a table overlooking a small lake.
I could see the party at the table next to ours. Teresa had her back to them. They were only inches away from her back. Directly behind Teresa was a pretty blonde in her twenties. Next to her was a slightly older man, and between them was a little boy around four years old named Henry, who was screaming for no apparent reason. He was wearing sunglasses much too big for him. Across the table was another young woman.
I knew the kid's name was Henry because the man was saying it loudly and repeatedly. The man was trying to amuse Henry, but Henry kept screaming. It looked like this group was done eating. Their table was clear. Why don't they leave? Then I noticed the man had a full beer.
The two women were oblivious to the racket. They were showing each other pictures on their phones. I could see the non-blonde’s video of herself swinging Henry by his wrists at the beach. Henry's restaurant screams blended with the man's admonitions, both of which were lost in the restaurant's general ambience.
My own beer arrived and I was able to enjoy the scene a bit more. At last the man stood up, grabbed Henry and plopped him down next to the other woman. "Let's sit with mom," he said, joining them. His beer was now at the 3/4 mark. Henry was given a phone and he quit screaming.
Eventually the man's beer was at the half way mark. His beer was matching mine, but he must have been on his second drink. Or his ninth of the holiday. Then he stood up and grabbed Henry. The other woman, not the blonde, followed him out the door. The blonde remained at the table reading her phone. I thought it odd that dad would leave half a beer behind. But he was not abandoning his beer, or the blonde.
Dad came back alone, wearing the sunglasses. I'm going to give him his one check mark of the night for letting his kid wear his sunglasses. He got behind his beer and snuggled up to the blond. "What's the lady looking at?"he said. No answer. He nuzzled her neck, clasped her upper arm and rubbed his knuckles up and down her ribcage. Her phone was still more interesting.
He continued making love to his unresponsive partner until his beer was gone. Then he headed for the men's room. Teresa wanted to show the women the back door. But that wasn't our business. When dad returned, the woman stood up, tugged her shorts to cover her buns,and left with the man. Perhaps they were off to start Henry 2. But that was not our business either.
As they left, we hoped the woman would be driving. That was our business. We returned safely to our home for the night. The Texans were still in their forest, enjoying the holiday. I caught a whiff of marijuana. Happy Labor Day amigos!
Great travelogue. Looking forward to more adventures.
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