Sandusky is an odd place. I know Cedar Point is a major attraction just a few miles from where I’m sitting, but I’m here in a hotel surrounded by little but more hotels, and more hotels beyond that, and still more just down the road. And only one of these hotels is advertised in the highway — excuse me, turnpike — service stations. It gives the place an almost top secret vibe, like they’re saying “You can’t book us, you must discover us!”
I wonder if the shampoo has something to do with it: I lathered up and got a distinct whiff of orange. Not citrus orange, but that creamy, feaux-orange of Dreamsicles and Push-Ups. I picked up the bottle, and sure enough, not a hint of orange. Just a generic flower pattern and the print “conditioning shampoo.”
I guess there are worse things to smell like while sitting in the middle of Midwestern Craphole, USA.
400 and some odd miles to go. Must sleep now.