Iowa's Hidden Treasure

How it happened, I have no idea. But there I was, in some random town in Iowa, just before the Illinois border. I knew I was going to stop at the world famous Iowa 80 Truck Stop before filling up on gas. It was getting late, and I had to make it through Illinois and Indiana without stopping and get to Michigan ASAP. However, hunger stung my stomach, and I pulled off on a random exit to find food. That’s when I saw it.

It was a small restaurant, and didn’t look like much. To say it was a “hole in the wall” would be an understatement, however, those restaurants, as far as I’m concerned, are the best.

When I came in, I realized immediately that everybody in there recognized me as a foreigner and they seemed curious about me – they stared. I tried to ignore it and started staring at my menu.

The waitress arrived and I joked with her asking, “So, is everybody going to ask you about me since you’re my waitress?” She nodded and said they would.
“Is there anything specific they’ll want to know? It'll be easier for me to tell you then for you to try and find a way of asking me. I say this because I grew up in a town like this, so I know how it is.”

She laughed and told me most likely they were just going to want to know what would bring me to their town. So I told her: I’m on my way to my hometown, and on the way I’m stopping at random casinos. I have personal stuff to take care of in Michigan, but I’m also trying to get work done on the way. She asked me what type of work I did, and I explained I was a writer. She thought I was penning the great American novel, so I quickly said I didn’t – that I mostly did short news articles and was even a blogger for a gambling site. She asked what my game of choice was, and I told her it would probably be any form of poker, and she said, “Well then, hold on.”

She disappeared for what seemed like forever (especially since she left before taking me order.) When she came back, she asked me to follow her. She walked behind the counter, and we stepped through a curtain to the back – and I was fascinated.

It was a scene out of a movie: a bunch of old men, in a back room, playing poker, and living life. It was WONDERFUL. They invited me to sit – we talked – we played – and it was an honor. The stories they had, the way they played, the reason they played, it was great. I didn’t win any money that day, but I left that town no longer a stranger, with an open invite to return, and confident that I would.