Surviving the Night at a Haunted Super 8 on the Outskirts of Dallas

Dallas: great fucking TV  show about rich sluts. Dallas, TX: terrible fucking city where I was recently trapped overnight because American Airlines was like, "We destroy everything we touch, JK, LOL.... but no, really you do have to stay overnight in Dallas." Then they show their appreciation for your business with these food vouchers that you can't even trade with the homeless for cigarettes or something cooler than a bag of Rolos and a seltzer. IMG_0955








What the fuck can I get for $19 at 11pm in Dallas? Whole lotta nothin'! But worry not, friends. I wasn't hungry for food so much as I was hungry for luxury and that's where American Airlines really delivered with my swank accommodations at the Super 8.  Behold the chic antique elevator from Hell:










And how you get not one but TWO shampoos (but no conditioner and certainly no toothpaste):








And the linens. I was so delighted by their soft embrace that I nearly ate the damn things.








Did I mention the cuisine? It was a gourmet Italian feast fit for a Head Bitch in Charge:








I felt so goddam fancy that I even hand-washed all of my underwear from the weekend and made a pseudo-flag of Serbia with the blue, red, and white.







Then I took a bunch of selfies to pass the time and try to get my mind off the fact that some sort of Texas chainsaw massacring fellow was banging on doors all night and the only comfort was the blather of those sad creatures that agreed to be on that Aaron Sorkin joint for the Home Box Office.  Behold, faces of despair.

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