There are entire industries I am completely ignorant about; one such example is the sandblasting industry. My friend Johnny recently acquired a set of truck rails that belonged to his grandfather. After having the rails cut down in length to fit his own truck, the next step prior to painting is sandblasting. Sandblasting is like sanding on steroids. Today's lunchtime adventure led us J&S Sandblasting, on the corner of SW15th and Penn.

Upon our arrival we found a guard dog and lots of sand, but no people. The dog was particularly friendly and completely unmenacing. We could hear someone sandblasting off in the distance; obviously, they could not hear us. After walking around for a few minutes, Johnny headed back toward the source of the noise while I stayed up front.

After failing to find a person, Johnny called the company's phone number, which was forwarded to the owner's cell phone who was out picking up lunch. A few minutes later the owners arrived. Johnny, the owner and I removed the truck rails from Johnny's truck and placed them in the "waiting to be sandblasted" queue.

The entire building was surrounded by gigantic, ancient gas tanks. What these will be eventually used for, I don't know. With all the dust and sand in the air, it looked like an abandoned Martian landscape. Well, except for the guard dog and all the four wheel drive trucks ...