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After a hot dusty day, much of it spent riding in the back of a minivan, the prospect of a swim at a motel pool was really inviting and I was prepared with two sets of trunks. Bill swears by Motel 6 but this one was a little down at the heels--torn up parking lot, tarped pool, and an air of seediness punctuated by lone men standing outside their rooms as if waiting. I stashed my computer and cameras under the bed when we went to dinner, and then after some gentle wrangling was able to get a second $2.99 wi-fi access code for free, suggesting it as compensation for the closed pool on such a warm night. I turned the AC on in the room but it wheezed out only gusts of hot air, so with a little trepidation I opened the door. (The window, for security reasons, was contrived to open only a crack too narrow for an adult to put an arm through.) Sitting on the crapper I imagined someone coming in and snatching the gear I'd left sitting on the desk. Sarah was laptopping on the bed but that only made the situation more tenuous. When I came out Sarah looked at me with concern and a guy appeared at the door, "What're you all doing?" "Just going to bed," I said, hand on the knob. "You know where I can connect for some molto?" I think that's what he said. I didn't know exactly what that meant but it was the truth when I replied, "We're just passing through; I wouldn't know where to begin with that." He too was just passing through, would be catching a bus in the morning. He said thanks and sheepishly walked off. I locked the door. In bed with the lights out I noticed peepholes cut into the curtain. After that encounter I could appreciate their use. |