One of the first nights in the US was spent in Atlantic City, jesus what a dump.
Checking in saw a 20stone bloke who was 50% Big Pussy from the Sopranos & 50% walking Diadora sponsor. What is it with that type of shit leisure-wear btw? Thought Liverpool had the monopoly here.
Ceiling of the hotel had discoloured, damp looking patches on, minging whiff of stale cigarettes even on the bedding. Turned the tv on while ex had a shower & Joel Olsteen's Sunday service thing came on. Couldn't believe what i was watching. His face, that absolutely unhinged grin that never stopped for the duration i could endure seeing it. Slugging For Jesus by Cabaret Voltaire was my previous default reference for tv evangelists & they were spot on. Seeing it in that room though was the perfect storm of Lynchian strangeness.
Went downstairs to play Blackjack. Got drunk on free, watered-down bourbon & lost $100 slowly getting distracted by spoilt brat/sociopathic ex & a clan of Hasidic Jews arguing the next table over.