Separ is a pit-stop with an attitude.
side is comprised of three fascinatingly-abandoned structures: a house,
an old filling station, and a railroad car. Quite an assortment. The
side (about fifty feet away) has an operable filling station, a
and a trading post. It's an odd little place. Maybe that explains why
is only three letters away from "separate." Rumor has it
that was the origin of the town's name. "Rumor, schmumor," Separ
says. Then it winks.
While you're pitstopping, why not look
the curios for sale in the trading post? You know you want that howling
coyote keychain. Come on - nobody's looking. Wait, don't go yet! Here's
your chance to buy that "Hotrn Hell" salsa you've been itching
to try. And the seeds to start your own indoor cactus garden. Over
is a rubber tarantula - you could put that in your desk drawer at work
and scare people! Here's an entire section of pastoral scenes painted
rocks - how can you pass these by? You might as well get the
inflater while you're at it. Go ahead. I won't tell anyone. What? Why,
yes - of course we have pecan logs. How many would you be needing?
Separ is a scary place. It is Svengali to the
motorists. It's the highway version of the Venus Fly-Trap. Some can
Some cannot. Get too close and you're lunch. And when you're upchucked
back onto the highway, you'll find yourself with an assortment of
stuff as odd as the combinations of building that make up Separ.
It was so nice to see you. Have a pleasant
careful that you don't trip on your way out the door - I wouldn't want
you to embarass yourself.