All along Interstate 40 I have been cursing the motelscape. The inedible sludge of reconstituted egg, “biscuit” and gravy that allows them to advertise “hot breakfast” – the coffee weak enough to read the Wall Street Journal’s markets pages through.
Reynalds takes me to a line of cheap motels right by the interstate where rooms are $29 (£18) a night. “These places fill up in the first two weeks after the benefit cheques are paid and when they run out, they empty out and people drift over to Joy Junction.”
Now I see the cheap motels in a new light. This is where America’s hidden homeless live.
Worth a read.