The hotel that I'm learning to make friends for profit at is 70 miles from any airport - or $220 in taxi terms.
it's also about 3 miles from the nearest road.
And built in a donut shape that makes it hard to navigate but impossible to get lost in.
The staff are weary - knowing that conventioneers always start quiet on Sunday and end, on Friday, bed hopping BFFs who grow drunker and more demanding by the day.
The patrons - all here on courses - expense everything and spend what they've saved on shiny suiuts and helmet hair lacquer.
If I had a soul it would be crumbling
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