Our campgrounds in Des Moines were a good three to four miles from downtown.  You’ve never encountered a bunch of bitchier people than bicyclists who’re forced to — horrors! walk somewhere.  (Uhhh, no, we’re not getting back on that damned bicycle . We’ve done our ride today, thank you very much.)
The local bus transit company was running shuttle buses every 7 to 8 minutes from the grounds to downtown.  This poor lady just wasn’t ready for the sheer scope of questions she was going to be asked by the 35,000 people who’d dropped in for a one night stand.  
I honestly don’t remember the question the rider here was asking her, but it was something along the lines of, “Can you find Des Moines on this map?”
Let’s see . . . Iowa . . . Iowa . . . nope, never heard of it . . . 
Maybe she once competed for Miss South Carolina?