Dad and I are here in Boca Raton, after an 11 hour drive, camped out at an almost shoddy Quality Inn, visiting family. Things are falling apart at the hotel. Lights are out, cables are loose, switchplate covers popping off at the slightest touch. The smiling Haitian woman at the front desk cheerfully hands my Dad some replacement light bulbs with a heavily accented “here you go”, and I sniff around for wireless networks around the hotel:
The last one in the list catches my eye. I look over at Dad, as if to answer the question.