I-75 and the American Dream

As anyone driving through southern Georgia on I-75 can plainly see, the American Dream is not dead. Forget prosperity through hard work and the now-cliché “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” Those are so 1776. Today, heading into Florida, billboards litter the roadside with promises of booze, eternal life, and illicit massages.

As the interstate extends further and further away from Atlanta, all sense of civility and decorum disappears. Bodily functions are suddenly topics of polite conversation.

In 2019, the prevalence of spa-related prostitution was brought to light in Florida. The authorities faked a bomb threat and evacuated the Orchids Spa in Jupiter, Florida. During the evacuation, the cops entered the building and installed cameras. After the establishment was back in business they instigated a sting operation. An unsuspecting man leaving the spa would be pulled over for a minor traffic violation. The officer would check his drivers’ license, then later match it with video evidence. The alarmingly wealthy Robert Kraft, owner of the New England Patriots, was balls-deep in the scandal. To quote an article from Vanity Fair:

“The friend excoriated Kraft for getting a ‘rub and tug.’ Kraft, seemingly hurt, insisted that it ‘wasn’t like that.’ He said he had felt a real connection with Lulu and Mingbi.”

Many illicit massage businesses briefly closed or went underground soon after the crackdown, but they are now flourishing again and heavily promoted along I-75, where, with one stop shopping, you can het a hand job and then treat little Jimmie to some ice cream at the Family Travel Center.

The thoughtfully named Peach Spa cleverly leverages both inuendo and the popularity of Georgia peaches – those scrumptious fuzzy orange orbs of fruity goodness that tourists love to get their sticky little hands on. And as luck would have it, from this “spa”, one can go right next door to shower afterward – flip flop-free even.

Liquor store billboards are cleverly positioned just before many of the exits from the interstate. This allows the discerning motorist to efficiently procure a fifth of Wild Turkey along with a six pack of Bud, before continuing that long drive south.

Then the DUI Attorney ads can be found just down the road a few miles. You just can’t get more convenient than that.

There’s always a wide variety of Adult Stores along I-75 to choose from if you’ve the time, imagination, and the right size batteries. Amidst a particularly spicy section between mile markers 118 to 99, one first comes across the Lion’s Den, then the Palm Tree Spa, and lastly the Adult Center Superstore (where selected items are always 50% off!) – all within a mere nineteen miles. In Unadilla, the water tower claims that “people make the difference,” but at the Lion’s Den, you are just as well off all by yourself.

But down the road just a few more miles, they shame you for your unclean thoughts. You weren’t shackled by lust twenty miles back, but you are now.

And for those suffering from anxiety stemming from religious education, I-75 doesn’t disappoint! I’m sure it’s nothing that roast beef sandwich or fried chicken drumstick can’t fix though.

But if all this is just too much, I-75 is there for to provide reassurance. Just put your faith in Jesus and the military, the South rising again, or text 988, and every little thing’s gonna be alright.

Approaching the Tampa Bay and Orlando areas, more signs appear promoting theme parks and senior living communities and fewer signs appear promoting the strange bedfellows of strip joints, adult super stores, and sketchy religious organizations.

Perhaps the American Dream means something different depending on where along I-75 one finds oneself. After spending four hours basking in the decadence and delightful tackiness of all that roadside signage, perhaps one’s perspective changes. Reality hits and It’s time to clean your shit up and behave like a responsible member of society – throw that bottle of Wild Turkey out the window, settle down in that retirement home, and take the grandkids to Disney.