Wednesday 24th September. Cincinnati, Ohio, USA

Yes, that's right...radio. WKRC I believe. Isn't that the one that Harry Chapin wrote a song about? I'd met a guy yesterday at Jungle Jim's who has a morning radio show, and he said if I called him at seven, he'd get me on air for a chat and give me an opportunity to promote my website. Needless to say, when I woke at 9:00 a.m I was too ashamed to call WKRC, so there goes my first opportunity of fame. Erin left for work, and I headed into town to plug my laptop in at Kinko's. Kinko's is a chain of printing stores that provide free laptop plug in stations for their customers, and I've been their biggest fan since I first discovered them in Oregon.

Erin off to work. Street art in baseball crazy Cincinnati.

It was already lunchtime, and I didn't really have a destination for today. My host in Columbus had more or less fallen through, and my next stop after that was Orrville in rural Ohio. My host there wasn't expecting me till tomorrow night. I was hoping I could contact the Toledo cop and maybe do a ride-along with them tonight or tomorrow. I left a couple of phone messages and gave Sarah's work number as a call back. I'd dropped my backpack off there after I was done at Kinko's, and she didn't seem to mind. Sarah was working day shift today, until five o'clock. In the meantime, I walked across downtown to a stained glass workshop that one of my potential hosts had asked me to visit. Anna had worked there before taking off to travel Europe. The guys there were friendly and were interested to know what my connection was to Anna. They were intrigued with the concept of inviting strangers into your home, and kept me talking until almost five o'clock, and I had to run back to Sarah's bar.

No reply. Damn. I'd really been counting on that. Before I could get too concerned about what I was to do, Sarah finished work and joined me for a glass of wine. Then time just flew by, and next thing it was quite late. Sarah only had a one room apartment, but said I could crash on the floor. After her ex-boyfriend joined us at the pub, it seemed like a less than ideal option.

Is that reall a room to bath ratio worth bragging about?

So here I am 3:30 in the morning, in a stinky, smoky room in a fleapit hotel on the outskirts of Cincinnati. There was a cheap dump of a hotel just down the road. I'd seen it earlier, but they weren't answering their phone, so I squandered a week's travel funds on a taxi fare and hotel room, which at $55 was the second cheapest one listed in Lonely Planet.

Pissed off? You betcha!

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