buck an hour.

sun is beating down around plate glass windows of a room turned internet convenience store in tucson. even the wind here is hot.

but this beaten town required another night.

our hotel is apparently haunted, you know where dillinger got caught? turn knob radios and no tv, pleasant woman warned us, "it's a bit like 'the shining' up there. call down to the switchboard if you see anything odd. oh and you get free access to the club tonight. good punk bands." yeah, i smiled.

climbing stairs that talk, i wonder where i packed the rest of my good whiskey.

head down to the all night grill, just a few blocks, and we're noting the overuse of airconditioning as texas boy's eyes light up; iron and wine on the inhouse stereo. strange and coincidental, but we continue eating until i hear tom waits bellowing 'big in japan' with his surly voice.

we had to stay another night, gone from texas. would stay here forever if moments lasted.