All of life’s daily insults are discussed outside the rooms. Tears are shed. Voices raised and issues are settled over ciggies and Budweiser. My next door neighbors, a biker couple from Texas, invited me into their room to show me their colors. Colors are leather vests with the club patches on them. I made the incredible error of touching his patch and was colorfully informed not to do it again….whoops. They are good folk but don’t stand a chance. And by that I mean they will be scratching for money to pay the bills until they don’t have to anymore. Life has ignored them, America has little use for them. They still find a way.