1957
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Sept. 1, 1957
I just arrived inland and I needed a place to stay for the week. I managed to find a local hotel. When I got there the guy behind the desk was a little out of it, but such tolls are taken after such late hours. He looked up and I greeted him in hopes of getting some reaction out of him, but he just continued to lookup at me blankly. After a while of what I can only describe as a coward silence, I decided to ask for a room. Only getting half of what I expected, a reply, he asked if I was American. I wasn't sure if I should have been offended by the question, but I answered it nonetheless. Then he asked if I where a sailor. I was starting to grow a bit tired both physically and with his questioning, so I once more asked if there was a room...