WAITING FOR THE TOW copy

WAITING FOR THE TOW copy
best car dealerships
Image by akahawkeyefan
I 15, near Beaver, Utah
While waiting for a tow truck, not much to do. But, hey, let me tell you about this tow truck outfit. In the middle of nowhere (see previous picture for full story), waiting for the tow truck, I wandered the area. Tow truck gets there, and the driver, a trained mechanic, takes a look and guesses the alternator went out. They check the aftermarket on parts, and the they couldn’t find one anywhere nearby. Only choice is to tow the vehicle to the dealership a little over 100 miles away, and reversing the course we had just traversed. So, the driver’s boss needs him back at the service station to do repairs, and drives down to meet us. We swap drivers and off we go. The owner of the tow truck turns out to be one fascinating character. He owns the Chevron station in Beaver, Utah, plus a number of tow trucks, plus a DairyQueen, and is a part owner of the Comfort Inn. Oh, and a car wash too.
Born in Beaver, and lifelong resident. And no desire for any big city stuff.
Anyway, he drops us off at the Toyota dealership, and wishes us well.
Several hours later, we’re back on the road headed North on I 15. We pass the point at which we were broken down, and a few miles further come to Beaver, Oregon. Well, I couldn’t help but pull off to go to our tow truck driver’s establishment. We get there and are greeted by an attendant that filled the gas tank and washed the windows. Washed the freaking windows! It’s been years since I’ve had a fill up with an attendant And he offered to check under the hood as well. Turns out our tow truck driver runs a top notch service oriented Chevron station in the middle of nowhere. My wife went into the station and there he was. He came out to greet me and ask about our experience.
We went in for a DairyQueen cone and enjoyed the cool ice cream. Upon leaving, there was our tow truck driver/owner to bid us farewell. I jokingly told him that he needed to add a Starbuck’s to his property with the DairyQueen, motel, car wash and gas station. He tells me in a bit of a drawl that some twenty years or so ago, he, his wife, sister and brother in law went on a trip to Reno, Nevada, and they went into a Starbuck’s and bought drinks. He said he and the brother in law took one sip and spit it out. Then poured the drinks into the trash and left. No foo foo for this boy. What a character he was.
Well, that’s my Utah story.

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