It's Always Something... Continuted

The story begins on the post below this one.


So, the tow truck finally arrives. I get the business card of the place that it's being towed to from a guy who looks like he opens beers with his teeth for a living. I'm not feeling good about this, but the cop is still there, and I have no other options. I'm at the mercy of the cornfield folk. So, I head back to the car where the cop pulls a U-turn across the grassy median. He asks me if I want to go to the motel or if I want to just hang out in the 24-hour truck stop. I laughed, then realized he was serious. Um, I think I'll go with the motel. A room by myself sounds better than downing coffee and hearing the complaints of life on the road from those who started the whole trucker hat fad.
So, I know it's a classy motel because they have a phone in the bathroom. One of those clamshell recessed buttons type of things. Nice. The bathroom was huge. Probably 15x15 without any exaggeration. Why they need such a large bathroom, I don't know.
And a big thanks goes out the crew of 20/20. (Jon Fossil, you’re an ass!) Because every time I go into a hotel now, I wish that I had one of those black light things to find out what else is in the room with me. The remote I hear is the worst. Followed up only by the bed spread. And when you think about it, when is the last time you saw the maid put that bed spread in her little laundry cart? And what's the first thing that you do when you go into a hotel room? A gentle back-flip onto that filthy germ catcher.
So, of course, the remote was gross. So, I stuck with HBO all night, for fear that if I changed the channel, I would get that bird flu that is goin' around... or something worse! Good thing that "Inside The NFL" was on and I could learn about what the Vikings have been doing since they reached dry land.
I actually passed out around midnight, so I got a decent night's sleep. I learned that the car repair place opened at 8, so I had my wake up call at that time. I placed a call to them at 8:03 to see how my car was coming. The lady at the front let me know that they had just opened and it would be a while before they could get to it. But, shouldn't be more than a half-hour.
So, I stumbled to the shower. Has anyone else noticed how stingy hotels/motels are getting with the soaps and stuff? I had one for the sink and one for the shower. I remember a day where they would give you 50 on a silver platter with a midget that would help you lather. Now, they give you two credit card sized slivers of was probably mashed up soap from the folks before you. And it doesn't do much but leave your body coated with some sort of protective film? At least, I assume it's protective.
And whoever designed the shampoo that comes in the same packaging that mustard comes in is out of their freakin' mind insane. I spent a good 10 minutes trying to open that thing. When your hands are wet, good luck with that fella. So, I began gnawing on it like a squirrel with hopes to puncture open this impenetrable package. And when it finally opened, I got a mouthful of shampoo. I wished that I had some sort of warning for that one. Because, still now everything has somewhat of a soapy taste to it. I was spittin' bubbles for a minute there.
Well, I went to get my stuff in order when I saw the card in the room that said "free continental breakfast" before 10. Rock on. It was 9:45; I could still make it. I went to the pathetically tiny lobby area to find nothing set up. And it looked as if nothing had ever been set up. So, I checked my e-mail and was about to post here when crazy North tooth tow truck driver guy showed up at the counter looking for me.
So, I hopped in his 1974 Ford pick-up truck with the 35-foot wide front seat. and we headed out to the service station. This place was top notch. And it was one stop shopping. While I waited for my car to be fixed, I watched a newly wed couple get their first F.O.I.D. cards together. How sweet. The sign on the wall let me know that you could get hunting and fishing licenses as well. I didn't dare ask about drivers licenses for fear that the picture taken would be with the same Polaroid camera that was used for the F.O.I.D. cards. And that can't be legal. The owner of the place was also the owner of the movie theater in town, so at my feet sat "Red Eye" in its canister waiting to go back to the distributor.
I paid my $212 bill shortly after hearing about how small this town was. (I think the total population was 35 people and a goat.) Then it was down the gravel road to the highway where I was finally able to make it up to civilization shortly after noon.