The machine urine is brewing


In my hotel room, there are two little bottles of water with a cardboard collar around them that says “Refresh” in big letters and “$3.00” in teeny tiny letters. I’ll drink from the tap, thanks.

There was no price tag (I could find) on the coffee machine, so I’m braving the hotel coffee. I just wish it didn’t sound so much like someone pissing into a cup.

Dinner last night was pizza in the lounge, but it made me violently ill back in my room. Can you tell I’m having a good time? In a few moments I’ll check out and catch a cab back to the train station to begin my desperate attempt to keep a room for the last and longest leg of my trip.

If I can, I’m going to check out the city a little bit. I need to restock my reading material and, if they refuse to give me the room I paid for, food supply. There’s a Books-a-Million nearby, which I’ve never been to because it’s a regional chain from outside my region, but they cleverly left their store hours off their website. Well, I’m certainly not going to call them from a hotel phone, for all I know its five bucks just to hear a dial tone. Maybe I’ll try Waldenbooks instead.

But there’s the library (second largest in the world) and an actual deep-dish pizza (which I hope to hold down).

Anyway, it’s time to go. See everyone on the flip side.