So I’m driving back to Texas, hoping to make it all the way home today, but about three hours from home, I start getting tired and my vision starts getting blurry. So I say to myself “stop at the next hotel”. No, I’m not crazy, everyone talks to themselves. I was hoping for a Holiday Inn, a Comfort Inn, something recognizable. The next town I come across has only one hotel, called the Executive Inn, which has a logo that pretty much rips off the one for the Comfort Inn. It’s got Executive in the name, so it must be fancy, right? If Steve Jobs and Bill Gates stay there, it can’t be all that bad.
I go to the desk and get a room. I take my key and open the door, and think to myself that the room looks clean, and it doesn’t stink. I figure this isn’t going to be too bad. Then I open the drawer of the nightstand hoping to find a pen and some paper. None there. However, there were about five or six bugs milling about in there. Along with a phonebook. But no pen, and no paper. The bugs were all on the phonebook. I’m guessing they were getting hungry. Perhaps they were looking for the number for the local Pizza Hut. But alas for them, the phone book is huge, so I doubt they were able to get it open.
Which is quite odd. Why does a town that appears to be just a few blocks long need such a huge phonebook?
So I go back to the office and tell the manager that the room is already occupied and that I would like another one. Actually, I would like another hotel, but I have no idea how far along the next one will be, or if they will even have any rooms. I’m guessing that quite a few people who stopped in here proceeded down the road to the next hotel, and it’s probably full by now.
The manager offers me some bug spray, which is conveniently located right on the counter (how did I miss that before?). I say no, I want a room with no bugs, not a room with dead bugs. So he gives me the key to another room. I check it out. Bugs. I go back to the office and tell him to give me a room in one of the other buildings that is not attached to that one. He does. No bugs. That I can see. I open the drawers. All of them. No bugs. But the phone book is open to Pizza Hut. Odd.
Probably pretty safe from bugs in this room. Once they’ve gotten into a building, they’ll be everywhere in it. Hopefully, this one hasn’t been invaded yet. Or the ones that were here went to a party in the other building that the bugs there are having tonight.
At this point, it becomes necessary to move my belongings to the new room. While moving some luggage, I’m approached by a woman who asks me what’s wrong. It’s pretty dark outside and I can’t really see her until she’s right in my face. She’s about ten years older than me and when she fell out of the ugly tree, she must have hit every branch on the way down. I say “Nothing, I’m just tired“. She then asks me if I need “a massage or anything”. Now, a massage after driving all day would certainly be nice. However, I’m fairly certain the “or anything” part was what she was more interested in. And I have a hunch that it wouldn’t be free. Of diseases. So I tell her I just want to get some sleep. So she just asks me for some money. Fortunately, I happened to have a single dollar in my front pocket and some receipts from previous food purchases today. So I pull them all out and insist that I only have a single dollar. She asks for it. Hoping she will go away, I give it to her. She then asks if I have any change. I give her my change, and as I had hoped, she went away. But not before telling me she has some beer in her room, and that I can come over and have one if I would like. I politely decline, and continue my room transplant.
I went back to the other room to retrieve the last of my belongings, being quiet so as not to disturb the bugs, and as I’m about to enter my new room, I happen to look on the ground and see what looks like a deflated balloon. I don’t recall seeing a circus or carnival around here, so I’m not quite sure what the explanation for that is.
I then notice something odd. Usually when you get to a motel at 2:00 in the morning, you don’t see anyone. But here, there are people wandering around. Lots of them. The massage therapist is hanging out by the pool with some friends. There are a lot of empty beer bottles and cans lying around them. As I walk by for the final time with the last of my stuff, I notice that all the bottles and cans are “Olde English 800” and “Colt 45”. Hey, maybe Billy D. Williams is staying here. Pity there was no paper and pen in the room, I won’t be able to get an autograph.
Uh-oh, there’s a knock at my door. I’m thinking I should ignore it, but curiosity is getting the best of me. And at this point I would like to thank the Texas legislature for passing the concealed handgun law. Be right back…
It was a guy from Pizza Hut. I told him I just got here, and there’s no way I could possibly have ordered a pizza. He got mad and left.
I’m not really sure whether or not I should even sleep in this bed. Who knows what’s happened on this thing. At least it doesn’t make squishy sounds when you sit down on it. Maybe I’ll just sleep on top of the covers. And the covers from the other bed. And my luggage.
I can’t wait to get home…
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