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.