Thoughts from a … where the hell am I?

This has to be the hightlight of my cross-country trip so far. I’m writing this from the “Budget Lounge Motel,” in Abilene, Kansas, where a room costs $25 a night. The desk clerk is a tall, Indian man wearing a V-neck shirt that’s really more of a V-chest shirt, just barely covering up his nipples. He helpfully directed me to the “pop” machine, where not only do they still use cans, but they cost only 60 cents. There are some things about Kansas that I quite like.

The Budget Lounge Motel uses real keys, not plastic ones, though they’re mostly for show, since I could easily shove my fist through the door if I wanted. My room is about three times as large as the queen-size bed I’m currently sitting on, and has surely been used for quick sex a few hundred times. I had to plug my computer in by the TV, because all the other outlets have just two prongs. Somehow those can coexist with wireless internet.

It’s pouring rain right now, and thunder is crackling overhead. I mention it because the room’s acoustics are such that the sounds from outside my door are somehow amplified. Not sure how that works, but every person that walks by my door sounds like a 300 pound monster. Maybe they really are 300 pound monsters. I drove past a lot of wheat fields on the way here, and I imagine something has to live in there besides wheat.

I’m scared to take a shower. The place is too similar in appearance to the Bates motel.

And yet, I kinda want to stop my trip and settle down here.

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2 Responses to “Thoughts from a … where the hell am I?”

  1. YLlama Says:

    That sounds exactly like a place I stayed in New Mexico. God bless the greater southwest.

  2. ranting2006 Says:

    My gods, you seem to be having the time if your life. They have pop machines, huh? Wow, makes me homesick a bit. I love the way you travel. As for the wheat I hear that things do live in it, just like in the cornfields. If you run into any creepy-looking children with names like Micah, or Josiah, I suggest you head back before its too late. (remember “He Who Walks Behind the Rows”…)

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