We'll Leave a Slim Jim on Your Pillow

One of the most on-target, and also hilarious, books on social class in America is the one by Paul Fussell published in 1992, called “Class: A Guide Through the American Status System”. Of course, in a dynamic society like ours, the earmarks of class do evolve over time, but the book is still 99% on-target and 100% hilarious. However, being, after all, only a single book, it cannot have covered all the various subtleties and nuances of class-based behavior, customs, and mores in America – so I’m taking it upon myself to remedy this situation in a small way, from time to time, and I’m going to start with a less-than-obvious topic, namely motels. And by this, I’m not talking about motels per se – that topic has been covered quite well by a number of writers. I’m talking about motel _behavior_, or let’s say why it is that people check into motels to begin with.

Now, I shouldn’t even have to mention that upper-class people simply don’t stay in motels – not ever. They stay in hotels, resorts, and occasionally in luxurious hotels that might _appear_ to be motels, simply on the superficial basis of their having only two floors, but the resemblance ends there. No, the American motel is exclusively the domain of the middle and lower classes. But this does not mean any given motel has to be entirely “middle class” or “lower class”. Granted, there are motels that are simply a bit too pricey for the average truck driver or factory worker… and there are other motels that no self-respecting middle-class person would be caught dead in. (Well, they _might_ be caught dead in one, but certainly never alive.) But many motels – dare I say, the vast bulk – are relatively indifferent to class. They are a kind of melting pot, if you will, of people who might otherwise never, or rarely, rub shoulders, or spend the night under the same roof (red or otherwise). And this is where the culture clash comes in – because middle-class people, by and large, check into motels in order to have a place to spend the night, and get some sleep. Which is to say, they check in, go to their rooms, pour a drink after getting some ice out of the ice machine down the hall (and why are those things still _so_ damn noisy after all this time?), watch a bit of TV, and retire after having set an alarm or requested a wake-up call – or both, if they’re extra-conscientious. This is the middle-class way – it brings back memories of Babbitt, Main Street, Death of a Salesman… you know, all those boring-unto-death life styles in which pleasure is subordinated to duty, not just for the time being, but for keeps.

Contrast this, if you will, with what happens when a lower-class person, or persons, check into a motel. For one thing, they aren’t necessarily on the road – they may, in fact, be within walking distance of home. So the fact that they’re checking into a motel already has a threatening element to it: What are they up to? Well, I can tell you for certain that “sleep” has nothing to do with it. Five minutes after check-in, and after turning the TV on full-volume (where it will remain the entire night), someone has to “go out for beer” – or for some other form of adult refreshment. Then the party begins, which seems to involve some sort of rough rotation among the following activities: (1) laughing and hollering; (2) singing (loud and out of tune, of course); (3) physically thrashing around, with much furniture being moved and bodies hitting the wall, doors slamming, etc.; (4) boisterous sex involving two or more persons, gender unspecified; (5) changing the channels on the TV; and (6) going out for more beer (or, etc.). These activities are typically punctuated by the arrival and departure of various unregistered guests, which has its own separate scenario of whooping and hollering, honking car horns, screeching tires, and the like, with perhaps a few barking dogs thrown in for good measure. And after a full night of such goings-on, do you think the folks in that room next door to mine fall into a blessed stupor for a few hours? Not a bit of it! They are up, dressed, and ready for the day not long after dawn, having slept not a wink (just like me) and having partied all night (not just like me). Truly, their sheer stamina (if not their life style) is inspiring.

Now, you’re going to say I must have just run into a few bad apples along the way. Surely there are lower-class people who check into motels, settle down, and get a good night’s sleep like regular, civilized people. Well, that might be possible in theory, but I’ve never encountered any. Whenever I see even the slightest sign of lower-classedness in the people in the next room, I resign myself to a night that would be the envy of a North Korean brainwashing expert. I don’t know when these people sleep – I guess at home. But when they’re out, they’re out for a good time, and if you don’t agree with their priorities that’s just your tough luck.

Oh, and by the way, in case you're wondering if this can all be avoided by staying in "nice" motels rather than flea bags, I guarantee that, to paraphrase Mae West, niceness has nothing to do with it. Some of my more peaceful motel nights have been spent in flea bags, and some of the most disrupted in "nice" places. So yeah, hit the road, take that trip, but be prepared to take your chances when it comes to getting a night's sleep.