Minden couldn't throw me out. I left of my own accord although I was certainly hustled along. The cafes were closed for RAGBRAI, they told me. Park here, they told me. You can't park here, they told me. The motor homes can't get through. But you told me to park here because the cafes were closed. The cafes are open, she said, as though talking to a congenital idiot.
"I'm never coming to this town again," I said, my feelings ruffled and just a little bit hurt. I had my own coffee in a thermos and my own damned newspaper. I really just needed a shady street to park on and I'd be fine. Couldn't even do that! No, the cafes were both closed and open. The traffic "cops" didn't know what was going on and no one could stick to the same story. Phooey on that town.
Audubon was a whole different story, except for the manager at Casey's, who apparently doesn't like RAGBRAI-ers. There's a lot of that going around, but it sure isn't universal, thank God.
The Chatterbox Cafe across the street next to the BP gas station in Audubon was wonderful, and the Audubon Holiday Motel on the same street, Highway 71 North, was equally hospitable. They told us it would be $50 on the phone and Mike, the owner, rang me up at $48.30 including tax. He told me to skip the change and I gave him two quarters to get rid of my change and because he was so nice.
Don Lebeck bought our breakfast at the Chatterbox Cafe. He's 77 and just lost his wife Donna a year ago. He loved her since the day he met her 50 years ago, and he sure is a fine man. She died in his arms.
I told him I was going to be nicer to my husband all day and maybe even tomorrow, too!
He even told me he thinks it's terrible how officers sexually assault women soldiers in the military. He's 77, 6'3" tall, born and raised in western Iowa, God's country, they say, and certainly Steve King country, and he's a very good man.