Thanks to the movie industry I’ve got the impression that motel visits are crucial for North Americans searching their freedom and self-realisation. Motels alongside the roads in the U.S are portrayed as old-fashioned, cheap, dirty and full of wackos; simply perfect places to rest in, or to hide away from your enemies.
Perhaps a matter of fantasies rather than realities, however I’ve always wondered what there is not to like? I’ve honestly dreamed about road trips and motels for so long!
And now I’ve already slept in two. Once in Fresno, and once in Reno. Both motel rooms had massive and comfortable beds and we found no bed bugs at all. Which is weird considering how travelers seem to find them all the time (according to the internet). Both places made me sleep like a baby and dream like a mad man. Last night’s dream was particularly beautiful. Crazy, but beautiful.
Thus today, I didn’t only wake up in a motel, but I felt completely rejuvenated and as if I newly had fallen in love with someone. It took me a few seconds to gather my thoughts before I remembered where my subconsciousness had taken me the last hour. I can’t stop laughing:
Nicholas Cage and I have been motel lovin’ and road trippin’ like Sailor and Lula (Laura Dern) from the movie Wild at heart. I was a weird merged version of the naive Lula and myself, and Cage was Sailor. When not in our car, we spent most time inside a motel room dancing on top of the bed sheets and snugging between all the smoking. I felt so in love, just like in a dream! And like dreams tend to, the situations and characters blurred together, thus there were moments Cage was my own V, instead of Sailor, and there were moments I portrayed him as the Hollywood celebrity which made me plan how to tell my friends about THE LATEST catch.
When the dream reached its most romantic peak, I woke up.
Thank you Motel for giving me the best night I could ever dream of. I’ll review the shit out of you, and would do so even if you’d had bed bugs.