Okay, I have one more Wisconsin post, and this is the last one, I promise.
Admittedly, I should have posted this sooner, to establish a more cohesive chronology. But this isn’t as interesting as the nature posts, since I’m just ranting here.
I am calling attention to the little town of El Paso, WI:
I can only conclude that this place’s existence is entirely dependent on the fact that state route 24 intersects with I-39, creating a settlement out of opportunity, and therefore so aptly-named: El Paso.
We made the mistake of stopping here last year, on the way home. There was one gas station, and it uses its location to exploit a price hike, but it does so in a tricky manner–advertising the price of gas with a car wash, but that fine print is a little hard to read from afar.
The men’s restroom was out of order, so I was forced to use a porto-potty, which was the most disgusting confined space I’ve ever been forced to endure. After retching to the point of delirium, I went into the station to buy hand sanitizer–which they didn’t have. So I bought a ridiculously expensive bottle of rubbing alcohol to substitute.
Yet we forgot these experiences, and made the mistake of stopping there again. After abandoning the drive-thru at the local McDonalds because we were unwilling to wait 20 minutes, we got gas, and fell victim to the false-advertising again.
So, if you ever find yourself in this town, my advice–just drive on.
–Simon