I met a troupe of racecar drivers today at the Silver Sage, the dusty grocery dead set in the middle of Vernon. Slickest vehicles I've ever seen. The drivers, however, looked like they came straight out of the cast of Waking Ned Divine.
No, no pictures of the movie. Go look for yourself, you lazy gorillas.
In the Silver Sage, there's a tiny corner marked "produce". "Produce" consists of a couple of moldy-looking bananas and a package of fruit snacks. Damn good burgers though, no doubt. If any of you stay-at-homes venture this far out into nowhereness, get the Cowboy Special. Trust me, you won't have to eat again for six months. You can buy hand-made scorpion hot sauce holders for your table, and specially marked "Vernon, Utah" baseball caps for your head or wherever you prefer to wear them. You can buy cotton candy in a can. Cheri, the flamboyant cashier, will tease you relentlessly for being a "city kid", and tell hilariously dumb jokes as you wait for your food. I may be falling for her. I could settle down here, nestled among the sagebrush and scorn for outsiders, and slowly get dustier and dustier. With God as my witness, if I stayed out here until I was eighty, my loved ones wouldn't have to strain their backs digging a hole to put me in, I'd already be six feet under.
Oh, and guess who hasn't showered for a week.