Friendly Enough

Low-slung motel's silhouetted against a stand of broken cedars, No Pets sign mocked by cats in windows, most stalls filled by cars belonging to last-minute flyers out the local airport. Has some name like Shamrock or Lookout, on some street named Bakerview, perhaps, and the late afternoon egg-yolk sun's dropping fast as autumn mercury while a raucous carful of crackheads from north of the border pulls in, looking for a place for four, maybe five hours so they can get royally fucked up this ni...