Waking up in a cheap motel in Berkeley is weird enough.  The Indian food I had for dinner the night before is throwing a hootenanny in my intestines.  I look about the room and see 5 other people laying about.  Everyone else seems to be sleeping blissfully.

It’s only 6:23 AM.  I didn’t sleep much but I’m jonesing for a beer.  We have plenty of beer in the cooler in the corner of the room.  I grab one and crack it open.

It’s a bit early to be drinking but when you’re in a motel room with 5 people that you barely know—well that’s when we start making excuses for ourselves.  This one might even be a good one.  And when you consider the strangeness of it all, it is good to have a beer in hand.

Without the beer, I might not be able to cope with this.  I get up to go to the bathroom.  There are only 3 sets of towels in the bathroom.  I already figure that I’ll be the first one to take a shower to avoid that hassle. 

I keep sipping on the beer.  It’s actually helping me come to grips with the situation.  So for all the abuse it takes, beer does serve a very real purpose in the world.  It’s just that many people never stop to see it that way.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Touring with the Dead always created a lot of bizarre circumstances.

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