Friday, Part 1 - Wall Drug

I decided to get a relatively early start this morning and get some breakfast at the world-famous Wall Drug. I was expecting a tourist trap similar to South of the Border, but I was actually quite impressed. Where I had never even heard of the latter before taking a trip down to South Carolina from DC last Spring, since I was a young child I recall seeing the bumper stickers which asked the eternal question:



If nothing else, Wall Drug is a testament to the importance of self-promotion. What originated as the only drugstore on the west end of nowhere began attracting customers in the '30s with an offer of free ice water. They still give out the ice water for free, and coffee is a scant 5¢.

I placed my breakfast order at the counter, which set me back a little over $10.00. I guess the free/cheap stuff is how they get you in the door. My expectations were pretty low, but I was quite impressed when my number was called and I went to pick up my rather heavy tray.

Since I was already a) in South Dakota, 2) eating breakfast in the kitsch* capital of South Dakota, and iii) taking pictures of said breakfast, I figured I had nothing left to lose by taking another picture to show the relative size of the flapjacks they serve at Wall Drug.

The syrup they serve at Wall Drug is the color and consistency of used motor oil, almost sickeningly sweet, and delicious. I couldn't finish everything, although I did drop another nickel in the box for a refill on my coffee, and went off to check out what else Wall Drug had to offer.

Like dinosaurs!

And creepy animatronic cowboy singers!


And jukeboxes that play acoustic covers of all of the hits from the '60s, '70s, '80s and today!



Yes, I paid a dollar for that. No, there is not a problem with your speakers.**

Seriously, though, if you happen to find yourself in the western part of South Dakota, you could do worse than to stop through Wall. In fact, if you do find yourself in Wall, you probably have been driving for a while. Pull over, grab a bite at the cafe, and check out the tchotchkes.

*If Mel Brooks is to be believed and the Indians do, in fact, speak Yiddish.

**Dear former colleagues at RIAA - Please don't send a C&D on this video. It sounds like ass. If you skip the first five seconds of the video, you probably couldn't have guessed what song it was anyway. First round at the food court's on me.