Even the car is waddling along after Thanksgiving dinner. I ease it into the motel parking lot, where there are actually quite a few people out.
The lobby door is locked. There’s a hastily typed sign: “Motel closed. We are going home to be with family. We apologize for the inconvenience.”
Back in the car, I relay the news to my wife and kids.
“Where will we sleep?” she asks.
“I have no idea.”
On the one hand, you have to admire the guy’s priorities. But looking around at the people shivering, worried, you get to wondering about his choice.