There is something charming about truck stops. They seem to be one of the last pieces of americana that are actually real, true and untainted by the status quo. It is one of those places, even amidst the porn and the six hour old hot dogs that feels warm and cozy. There is no pretension -- there is no facade -- it is what it is; a place for weary travelers, life long truckers and small town girls to sit under the flickering yellowed light bulbs and talk, eat, drink coffee deep into the morning hours.