Mormon

Springville to Salt Lake City

I like America.  There's never been a town I wouldn't go back and revisit.  That is, until now.  Salt Lake City.  A truly horrible city.  It's the bastard child of Disneyland and Stepford Wives.  The kind of place where you wouldn't be surprised to be followed by a Mormon Agent, or see listening devices checking you weren't  say anything disparaging against their batshit crazy religion.  I've explored an abandoned TB hospital deep in rural Arkansas and even there I didn't feel the overwhelming feeling of dread in this horrifically anodyne hole.  For unexplainable reasons adrenaline was rushing through me causing my heart to beat heavily in my chest,  Salt Lake City was rejecting me every bit as much as I was rejecting it.  The only plus side is that I know that I will never ever have to return to this god-forsaken pit.

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We threw the car back at Alamo and went to sit in the airport and wait for the flight.

Did I mention that I really didn't like Salt Lake City.  At all.