A Christmas Story
December, 1983
It was a truck stop just like any other. I parked my 18-wheeler and went inside to get off the road and out of the cold. It was Christmas Eve. Everybody with good sense was at home, but there I was, in a truck stop on Interstate 80 somewhere in Iowa, eating steak and eggs and drinking coffee and watching the snow outside. The road can be as lonely as the ocean.Pretty soon, I noticed a fellow sitting at a table back in the corner, near the salami and the oil filters. He was slouched down in his s...
