I need to pee
Steinbeck's The Wayward Bus is exactly about such a place and the particular mix of people who worked, visited, and left it.
To your point, long road trips have absolutely lost their lustre, making the destination, any of them, far preferable to the journey.
Exactly. I have friends who happily jump behind the wheel for 8 hours of seeing nothing but freeway traffic. I’d sooner eat worms.
Remnants of weirdness still remain; here and there, but everything has gotten so homogenized.
Also pour out a roadside coffee for all those kitschy motels that Nabokov mocked in Lolita.
Steinbeck's The Wayward Bus is exactly about such a place and the particular mix of people who worked, visited, and left it.
To your point, long road trips have absolutely lost their lustre, making the destination, any of them, far preferable to the journey.
Exactly. I have friends who happily jump behind the wheel for 8 hours of seeing nothing but freeway traffic. I’d sooner eat worms.
Remnants of weirdness still remain; here and there, but everything has gotten so homogenized.
Also pour out a roadside coffee for all those kitschy motels that Nabokov mocked in Lolita.