Ever met someone who manages a cheap motel? I did.
At a party no less. He runs the cheapest, creepiest place in town. He's nice enough, gives out vouchers to help stranded people and victims of domestic violence. But the place is infamous.
And he was exactly what I would have pictured.
As in... missing teeth.
As in... corners you to tell stories about the dead people he's found in hotel rooms.
As in... corners you and does not stop talking to you for 45 solid minutes about said dead people.
As in... not even all the way in the door to the party, corners you and does not stop talking to you for 45 solid minutes about dead people.
It was awkward. And uncomfortable. But worse yet, I was invovled in a finding-a-dead-guy-situation and I totally wanted to tell people about it.
But I won't. Except, now I've put it out there so I have to.
The story is really just sad. I got a referral about a man who had been neglecting himself and was dying after years and years of abusing alcohol. I was unable to go out and check on him, so I sent police. Who found him. Dead.
That's all I know. But it was upsetting. And I wasn't even there. Thank god. But it was still upsetting anyway.
So yeah, I get why the guy told us about the dead people he'd found in hotel rooms. But he was still missing teeth and telling strangers about dead people while sitting on a staircase. So, I'm making him a weirdo anyway.
The National Nazi Epidemic of 2017
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