We left Chicago after breakfast and headed South through an area with a lot of wind turbines which seemed out of place. When we got out for lunch and were nearly blown away, the windmills suddenly made sense. We had stopped at a Dairy Queen in no-place-special America and I felt there should have been a sign saying “you must have at least four tattoos to operate the deep fryer” somewhere. I tried the items from their local menu and learned that veal cutlet when deep-fried tastes similar to pork cutlet and that fried cheese curds are essentially mozzarella sticks but in sphere form.

I dropped of the last person at around 5 PM and for the dozenth time in my life braced to get home from Cincinnati at 2 AM.