north platte

I am towed into North Platte, Nebraska around 6:00 PM Central Daylight Time by James "Skip" Templeton the Rat Boy. He introduced himself to me by blurting out, "Most folks just call me Temple Rat 'cuz I look like that rat on the Muppets". I try, but I can't make the connection and of course I initially thought he said Pimpleton. That would in fact have been appropriate considering his oily complexion and volcanic sebaceous glands.

On close observation, Pimpleton resembled a young Dustin Hoffman with exaggerated features. Nose, mainly, but including pursed lips and the twitchy eyebrow syndrome of an Indian milk rat. Worse, like Rain Man, he didn't stop talking all the way into North Platte.

As you can imagine, this only heightens existing stress levels and eventually I snap, remarking, too the milk rat, very cruelly, "I am from the City and I have absolutely no use for your conversation." Pimpleton is momentarily confused/stunned and I use the opportunity to turn the radio volume up so far only an idiot would try to speak over it. As it turns out, Pimpleton is an actual living idiot and he goes on to scream over the music to tell a story about his "run-in with Van Halen" at a Happy Cheff Restaurant in Rapid City, South Dakota. Amazingly, he has actually met Eddie Van Halen.

Desperate at this point I pretend to fall asleep, but brainless Pimpleton sees the ruse for what it is and moves on to a story of his days poisoning prairie dogs for the National Park Service in South Dakota. Uncharacteristically, I make a fatal mistake and mention I'm originally from South Dakota and the Zitface Rodent Man (you might notice I really hate him now) proceeds to deliver a 15 minute lecture on the history of South Dakota's tulmultuous statehood fight with neighboring North Dakota. Just as I'm getting ready to open the door and leap to a certain, painful death, Pimpleton announces the North Platte exit. It felt like I'd just had a tumour removed.

NEXT: North Platte residents are diverse.