Let’s Talk about Iowa
Last night I got in to Iowa, State 49! Only Arkansas to go.
Last week I updated my mom on my progress and I was like, “Only Iowa and Arkansas to go!” And she said, A. “I’ve been to Iowa before,” and B. “My cousin lives in Iowa. You could probably stay with her.”
So, yeah. Mom came through for me big time in Iowa. And even luckier for me, the relatives live in Davenport, which being on the eastern-most part of the state, meant less driving for me.
I got into cousin Karen’s house in the evening. She gave me a huge hug, introduced me to her significant other, Mark, and then handed me a can of beer. We stayed up for hours just talking and laughing and drinking beer and it was as if we had, ya know, actually met before. Before the night was through, we had made plans to go to Egypt together in May. That’s how you know it was a good night.
The next day, Karen made me breakfast (which is always awesome) and then we headed to Buffalo, Iowa to hang with her big brother, Bobby.
You haven’t really lived until you’ve been to Buffalo, Iowa.
Bobby showed us around the property, introducing me to his employees, another cousin, and his cleaning lady. He showed us his new house boat, his old sail boat, the pontoon, and nearly every other type of boat you can imagine. And also a kayak. After the boat tour, the lady cleaning the things offered me a drink and poured me a STIFF rum and Coke. I was halfway through my beverage when I realized it was like, 12:30 and I was starting to feel tipsy.
Clearly not deterred by early-in-the-day drinking, Bobby left work early so we could all head to the bar together.
“Wanna take the limo?” asked Bobby. Um, yes please.
Me and Karen settled into the back seat of the not-too-new, purple crushed velvet interior limo Bobby had purchased recently from God only knows where, while Bobby put his chauffeur hat on over his long grey ponytail.
To Dee’s Catfish Cove we went!
It reminded me of the time I stopped in Leadville, CO to grab a bite to eat. My brother ran an ultra marathon there, so I had decided to route my road trip through the town to see the sites and, dear Lord! I’ve never felt like such a city slicker in my life: cause, ya know, having all your teeth and not having knuckle tattoos = big-city living.
Buffalo, Iowa is kind of like that.
At the bar, they asked if I wanted Miller or Bud. Simple as that.
I think I got Bud cause that’s what cousin Bobby had, but seriously, between the two, does it really make a difference? They were like $1 each I think, cans only. So we had a few before heading to our next destination (via the 1990s-model limo): The Beach Pub.
At the Beach Pub, Karen and Bobby knew EVERY.SINGLE.PERSON. I was introduced around as the cousin and I got SO.MANY.HUGS. Ha ha, I don’t even like hugging strangers, but I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of life in Iowa. Cousin Bobby pulled me out of my reverie: “You do shots?”
My first thought was, I’m WAY too old for shots, but, seeing as cousin Bobby is roughly twice my age, I wasn’t sure that would fly. So we did shots. And then drank beers. And by the time, I dunno, maybe 3:00 p.m. rolled around, I had had WAY too many beers (and shots).
The Beach Pub is walking distance from Bobby’s place, so the limo stayed there and we made our way back to Bobby’s on foot. Karen had declined the shots and the last round or two of beers, so she, thankfully, was able to drive us “home”.