Zip Code

This photo is the result of my one day tour out of my zip code in search of something old or exotic.  No good?  I know.  It is much too literal.  There must be a way to make it more interesting, but I haven't found one, yet.  I have some ideas, but for now. . . .

I could go with this from years ago.  $29 nice clean rooms and a Wendy's next door.

Or there's De Anza motor lodge from the same stretch of highway.

I give up.  Better to look at this.

I sent this to several of my buddies this morning.  Q told me not to watch it any longer.   He said he loved her.  But she is my type, the kind to whom I've been attracted all my life, women from wealthy families who are much more sophisticated than I.  I don't want someone like me.  Nope.

I told Q that she surely was not alone, and his reply was classic. "Do you think young women like that have ever been alone?"

Not for a second.

What she needs is a good dose of cynicism, I said.  Yes, he said, that will set her straight.  How has that worked out so far?

I haven't bothered to look up the price of that rig.  She was sleeping in her Xterra before this.  I have an Xterra.  That is the video I need to watch.

I'm trying to write this in the hipster coffee shop that I said I'd never come to again.  It is impossible. CC keeps texting me bogus information about Medicare.  The two of us talking about anything practical is like a fucking Abbot and Costello skit.  It's like Vladimir asking Estragon which way to go.  It is hopeless.

I'm leaving this place.  I'll go home and scan more photos from the '70s.