Not quite homeless

“Well, Granny never put any distinctions on any of God’s creatures. She always used to say, ‘Meat’s meat, and man’s gotta eat!”

Well hello friends and neighbors. As some of you may know, I was living for a couple of months out of my Toyota Tacoma, the small version of the pickup truck. Since finding a decent-paying part-time job with Uncle Sugar, I have mostly stayed in different hotels until I could find some living quarters which were both affordable and relatively decent.

As one surely knows, staying in motels gets expensive fast so I checked into one of the local roach motels yesterday to stay for at least a week. This gives me some breathing room that I have not had for awhile and will perhaps give me time to extensively search for a real place to live.

As motels go, and I lived for years in a motel on the outskirts of Waco so I think tha gives me some particular insight into the subject, the place in which I am staying is the mother of all dumps. Jeez, it is so trashy that I just don’t know where to begin describing its particular ambiance. So I will have to ask you to just trust me. That’s right, go ahead and kick the football whilst I hold it. I promise not to do a Lucy van Pelt on you.

But as crappy and exceedingly seedy as this motel is, I do have to remind myself that it fits a loose description of housing. It has cable TV, refrigerated air, a shower, a nice-sized closet and it has — even though I have not yet fell to temptation to try it out or even see if it still works — a coin-operated bed massage. If that’s not living, then I’ll kiss your ass.

So as a sign I saw on a motel marquis the other day: “Keep on the sunny side.” And it’s sunny when you are not exactly a street person.

Have a nice day. You deserved it.

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