From the interstate, I see a dilapidated, yellow motel flash by on my right. I don't really feel like stopping, but the fear of missing out takes over. When I park my car a little later, I spot a pregnant girl hanging in the doorway of her room in the distance. I try to remember her room number, but - unsurprisingly - end up standing in front of the wrong door. Instead of the expected pregnant teenager, a very skinny man opens the door. "Come in." He moves slowly, and I'm surprised he can still walk.
John