It's a small world at cowboy corner

Jen and I were getting gas as we prepared to enter the Badlands National Park. So we stopped at a little place (hard to call it a town, but whatever) called cowboy corner in the town(?) of Interior, S.D. When I was paying for the gas this guy goes to me, "Sox Hat?" I cleverly respond, "Yeah. Sox." He goes, "You must be the other Massachusetts plate." I go, "Huh?" He goes, "I'm from Boston, too." I go, "Oh. Right." (Yes, I'm just as slow as ever.) "Well I'm from Seattle, but my girlfriend is moving from Boston. It's her car." He goes, "Cool. My girlfriend is from San Francisco and we're moving to Boston."

He had obviously gone round trip. They were headed the other way maybe to Mt. Rushmore where Jen and I had just come from. Either way we crossed paths. We were going west and they were headed east. We met at Cowboy Corner one afternoon over a full tank of gas and some cokes.