When you come to the fork in the road, take it

High winds were blowing us south through Nebraska on Highway 81 last January and we took refuge briefly at a rest stop somewhere south of McCool Junction. Besides free water and a clean restroom, the place was chock-a-block with junk designed to catch the bored traveler's eye and create an impulse purchase.
The trap snapped as Kathleen picked out the perfect, must have item: An old silver fork with its tines bent to accommodate a recipe card. "I have always wanted a stand to hold my recipes!" the poor deluded girl said. Stan just rolled his eyes and watched four impulse dollars change hands, absolutely certain that would be the very last anyone would ever see of that old bent-up fork. He was still shaking his head as they clambered back into the car to continue their boring exit of the plain states.
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He couldn't have been more wrong about that sudden purchase, he discovered in amazement today. That old bent fork from Nebraska has found its purpose in Minnesota.