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The desk clerk welcomed me like he knew me & laid out a 3x5 registration card to fill out. I remembered the online page where I originally stumbled onto the motel. It began with a photo of two middle-agers — one bearded, the other stubbled, captioned with same last names — siblings or cousins — standing behind the motel counter — this motel counter — then a post: “Regrouted #3 shower, if your in the area, your welcome to stop by and see it!” There was also a homemade music video scored live, but off-camera, by acoustic guitars strumming Beatles’ Yellow Submarine chords with lyrics changed to rhyme the motel amenities instead, sung campfire-singalong style from a small chorus sounding under the influence. It was one of the determiners that led to my reservation.
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