Barbeque Restaurants in Harlan, IA

“I feared for my wife’s reputation when, while visiting from Seattle, she spent a night at a questionable roadside motel beside an establishment called The Buck Snort. I was 1,300 miles away, left only to imagine the grim possibilities awaiting her as she sashayed in alone—at peak rutting season, no less.

She insists she is still a reputable woman. Yet since returning home, there’s a new wobble in her step, and every so often she lifts her nose to the wind, swiveling her head as though chasing some not-unpleasant memory. She won’t say what transpired inside the Buck Snort that night. Still, there’s a fresh gleam about her, a shine to her flanks I’d not noticed before.

I suppose I'll have keep her as a trophy wife.“