Sometimes a dollar is only .98¢. Maybe you need to you use the restroom and there are extraordinary security measures in place. Or you see someone you know of in a celebrity cemetary, even read a great line from another. Then Jim comes by and starts telling you about every person buried there and the doc he’s working on about it. Things like which one had to be moved because their estate couldn’t afford the upkeep. Even where Mr. Breakfast Club is buried, but before you can see that, and, just as you start the 11:40 show, Protector of the Dead™ shows up and kicks you and your kind out. Twice. So you decide to get some lunch. Tasty! And after a few more hours driving, you just want to settle into your motel. Not, hear stories about the silver Honda with foil blankets crammed inside and pictures taped to its exterior. Pictures and names of known drug dealers in the area that the owner is trying to protect people from, but who also has had most of the pictures they taped in place ripped from the car. The guard standing at the front entrance strapped with a nine gives the owner 12 hours—if that.
Welcome to Carlsbad.
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