rumitoid wrote:
Every Easter school break our family went to Atlantic City for vacation, always staying at the Seaside Inn. Certain features of this motel are so stark I feel that I am actually standing there: the big piano in the lounge; the white bubbled indoor pool, that smell of chlorine, my younger sister, so thin, on the diving board; my younger brother in orange float vest who jumped off the deep end swimming wildly to me. "Where was I?"
Seaside Inn or maybe the drunk tank at the local jail.