When I read the press release for the new reality show, “Truck Stop: Missouri,” I knew we were all in for something pretty special.

“The truck stop,” bragged the Travel Channel bulletin, “(sells) a million gallons of fuel a month, and 5,000 pounds of biscuits and gravy a week.”

Sure, “30 Rock” is funny, but can it sell 5,000 pounds of biscuits and gravy a week?

I think not.

And yet, I had misgivings.

As endlessly fascinating as biscuits-and-gravy-based commerce is, I wasn’t sure a TV show could be built around it.

“If I am honest with myself,” I thought, “and I rarely am, I have to admit that truck stops have never excited me much in real life.”

My earliest memory of truck stops is of my mother telling me on road trips that I needed to put on my shoes before I entered a truck stop restroom.

So I have carried into adulthood a mental picture of truck stops as breeding grounds for the sort of germs that are unashamed to admit that they have a foot fetish.

I am unashamed to admit that I am not a trucker, which means I am generally not all that interested in the sort of things truckers purchase at truck stops (with the possible exception of that “Best of CW McCall” 8-track tape that I picked up last week).

Most of the people who visit truck stops do so because they have to, not because they want to. But if “Truck Stop: Missouri” becomes as successful as “Pawn Stars” and “Storage Wars,” it will accomplish the same improbable thing that those shows have. It will engross viewers in an occupation about which they previously had little curiosity.

One of the things I like about all these shows is that they are not about rich people.

In an article about storage shows that ran in the Daily Republic of Fairfield, Calif., in May, real-life bin bidder Mike Dehaas admitted: “I’m making minimum wage when it’s said and done.”

Of course, there are varying degrees of artifice, manipulation and fabrication involved in all of these reality programs.

The first episode of “Truck Stop: Missouri” was so stilted and obviously scripted that I felt like I was the one holding the cue cards.

Everyone from the implausibly eccentric fisherman to the implausibly emancipated cow seemed to come from Central Casting.

As a host, general manager Joe Bechtold sounds like a guy who never met an ad lib he couldn’t memorize.

It remains to be seen if there is enough material, even of the trumped-up variety, to justify several seasons of this show.

If not, I have plenty of suggestions for reality shows about blue-collar folks just trying to get ahead the best way they know how. I offer them below, complete with sample episode synopses.

Dunk Tank Taunters: Rick nearly drowns when he belittles the masculinity of a fairgoer who turns out to be Greg Maddux.

American Envelope Stuffers: Wilmer and Silus come to blows while arguing the relative virtues of licking envelopes vs. wetting them with a sponge.

Parking Garage Cashier Wars: Emmet climbs on top of his booth to protest management’s refusal to install wall-to-wall carpeting.

American Sweater Depillars: In the depilling room of the Panama City Dry Cleaners, Lorraine has the greatest challenge of her career when she is asked to depill a sweater knitted from the dreadlocks of a Rastafarian holy man.

Extreme Lamination: Hector tries to combat the decline in the professional lamination business by laminating a bunch of cat posters and trying to sell them in senior centers.

Live Bait Shop Stars: Zeke gets in trouble with his brothers when he lets his pet chickadees eat the store’s entire supply of meal worms.

Hardcore Haberdashery: Perry finally convinces a customer to enter his store after spending four hours with him on the sidewalk defining, and then clearing up various misconceptions about “haberdashery.”

Dental Gold Panners: Jasper hits the jackpot when he discovers a gold tooth in a bin of old dentures donated to the Salvation Army.

Hotel Pool Chlorinators: A gorilla checks into the hotel and Oliver has to try to stop him from taking a soak in the hot tub in an episode that producers will insist was not at all scripted.

Hardcore Brunch Carvers: In an open challenge to Derek, Eddie carves a slice of ham so thin you can read “Dr. Atkins’ New Diet Revolution” through it.

Big Eye Painting Pickers: Cecil’s attempt to restore the popularity of paintings of big-eyed children hits a snag when a young orthodontic patient is rendered instantly catatonic by the sight of one on the wall of her dentist’s office.

Birthday Money Hunters: Eddie Ray meets his quota when he convinces 20,000 of his most distant relatives to send him $5 apiece for his birthday.

Hardcore South Dakota Welcome Center: Velma scores a win for agribusiness when she convinces a group of Japanese tourists to skip Mount Rushmore and go to the Corn Palace instead.

American SAT Proctors: Two brothers and fellow proctors enter a marathon proctoring contest called “Proct ’Til You Drop.”