Only in America.

Silence Dogood here. Yesterday, our friend Ben and I made the long, the very long, drive back from Greensboro, North Carolina to Hawk’s Haven, our cottage home in the precise middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania. On our road trips, OFB is the designated driver and I’m the designated observer, keeping an eye out for anything that might be interesting or entertaining that I can share with Ben to help him stay awake, engaged, and alert during the endless hours of the trip.

This trip, I struck gold before we’d even gotten out of Greensboro. I observed a large purple building prominently situated on a slope. It looked like a car wash with a very large building attached, and that, as it turned out, was exactly what it was. The huge sign over the building proclaimed:

            Gentlemen’s Club and Exotic Car Wash

Now, there was a classic example of American ingenuity at work! OFB and I didn’t think the sign was referring to exotic cars. Instead, here was a place where you could get your car washed and never have to worry about being bored while it was going through the wash, rinse, dry, and polish cycles!

Of course, I couldn’t resist thinking about what other businesses could be combined with exotic dancers to the benefit of customers. I quickly decided that a perfect combination would include one of the endless tattoo parlors we passed, since the exotic dancers would hopefully distract the patrons from the pain of the tattooing. Eureka! Another inventive goldmine just waiting to be turned into a money-making reality. 

Alas, it appears that someone else had gotten there first. About a hundred miles down the road, there it was:

          Tattoos & Body Piercings Gold & Silver Men’s Club

Drat! Back to the drawing board. Exotic barbecue and men’s club? Exotic sushi and men’s club? Exotic sports bar and men’s club? (Whoa, that one’s too obvious. It must already be in existence somewhere.) Exotic golf club and men’s club?! (Yo, Tiger! Here’s your new career.)

Mercy on us. Here in PA, they tend to go for fireworks instead of strip clubs, I mean, exotic men’s clubs. I’m not sure what that says about the Keystone State. But maybe they’re missing an opportunity, too: Hot Dogs and Fireworks! Pretzels, Sauerkraut, Firecrackers! Ox Roast and Fireworks!  

Oh, well. OFB and I certainly enjoyed the opportunity to think about all the inventive combinations we clever Americans could come up with. It made the homeward trip go much faster. And boy, were we happy to get home!

          ‘Til next time,

                       Silence