| The guy in the Santa suit can't figure out how to work the gas pump. | 
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Oh. That button. The attendant didn't mind too much--she dug Lucky. |
| After filling the tank (with "unleaded regular" -- what's that supposed to be?), we set out down I-55. But the sound got worse, so I chose an exit at random, which happened to be the one for the Dixie Truckers Home & the Route 66 Museum, where they are apparently unaccustomed to celebrity-icon visitors. |  Not Just a Truck "Stop" |
 Santa basks in the |
The celebrated Midwestern common sense manifested itself in the form of a lot of weed-benders weaving circles round us thrice, closing their eyes in holy dread and so forth, and in general giving us lots of personal space. Children were particularly dumbstruck; unshaven, unshowered, malnourished Santas are apparently outside their experience. Ditto a 6'5" elf. ("MOMMY...something's NOT RIGHT!") No one asked me to bring them anything for Christmas. |
| I checked Lucky's fan cowling (part of which the Official X Pit Crew had summarily torn off "because the fan was hitting it"), checked the oil, added some lead substitute to the gas tank, and got back on the highway. |
"Properly Dressed"? "No Pets"? |
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