Actual update
I thought Hedon would get on here today and post about what happened yesterday. It looks like Maggie somehow got onto her computer and beat her to the punch. Maggie isn’t so good at details however, so I’ll give a short version.
After another day of fiery torture, we were informed that our truck will require several more days of repair, which the shop cannot perform until Monday and Tuesday (it’s some exhaust leak that is going to require that half the engine be disassembled). So they gave us back our truck and the plan was that we would just hang out in the truck all weekend and get a motel reservation for Monday night since the truck is expected to be half torn apart at that time.
Once again, we found ourselves striking out on the motel reservation thing. One woman actually told us that she wouldn’t take reservations because all the outside contractors in town will pay twice as much as we will, so we could just call back on Monday and if she hadn’t stuck it to some contractor, then she’d let us have a room. Heartwarming, ain’t it?
The management of the only motel we could find that had rooms available and would accept Maggie decided to hold our chick-balls to the fire. If we wanted to reserve Monday night, we would also have to take the room for Friday, Saturday and Sunday too. We had to accept. It’s so touching the way natural disasters bring out the blackmail in people.
So, we are now ensconced in a fleabag motel for the next 3-4 days. It’s one of those joints where you have to “check out” a remote control for the television from the front lobby. Pizza Hut won’t deliver after dark. They say it’s because of the hurricane, but I’m not so sure. Last night, a lot of folks were hanging around in the parking lot. Hedon said it looked like a Traveler convention (ala “The Riches” show on FX). At least they didn’t start any fires.
There ya have it. And I am so very, very bored. There will probably be 30 new posts on this blog between now and Tuesday, because this fleabag motel actually has WiFi. Shocking! Thank dog for small favors.
First let me tell you that although I’d really love to say I’m feeling your pain being stuck in a fleabag motel, I can’t. I would sell my left arm (I’d keep my jewelry on it too, but really, who needs another left arm?) to not stay in one of those and have often put Ed on the brink of bankruptcy to “keep me in the style I’ve been accustomed to.” Although, in circumstances like yours where the lodging is limited, sometimes it’s (ack!) necessary.
Second, for purely selfish reasons, I’m kinda glad you’re stuck there if it means you’ll be posting more often. Since this is now the first blog of the day I read (you’ve eclipsed Dooce – she’s been relegated to second place) I love when there are new posts.
Third – the “thank dog” thing reminded me of skit George Carlin used to do:
Because George Carlin doesn’t believe in God, he said he started to worship the sun, because like praying to God, he’d get what he wanted 50% of the time anyway. Then he decided to pray to Joe Pesci instead, which also got him what he wanted 50% of the time. After that, he would say “Joe Bless You” and “Thank Joe” just like you said, “Thank Dog”.
Sometimes when I sneeze, Eddie will say “Joe Bless You” Cracks me up every time!
And perhaps while in Hell, you could pick up our tarps for us and then meet us in a more convenient location so we don’t have to go there to get them!
CAPTCHA: Pickells Halpin (His real name was Johnny Halpin, the youngest of the Halpin brothers, but everyone west of the holler called him Pickells. If’n you was wonderin why the two l’s, I caint tell ya. Only Pickells knows and he ain’t tellin’ neither.)
Selena,
After spending several days in this old fleabag joint, I’m at least happy to report that it is much cleaner than it appeared at first. I thought the bathroom floor was filthy, but when I tried to clean it, turns out it’s just old stains. I’m still not sure about that bedspread, though.
LOL to Joe Bless You. Alex (Wrywriter) likes to use the “dog” thing and put it in my head again (hi, Alex!). A million years ago when I was on AOL and used to hang out at the atheist forum there, they liked using “dog” also.
On the flip side, I knew a woman who named her dog “God.” She loved standing at her front door yelling for her dog, “God! Where are you, God?!” I think she liked scaring her neighbors. And she got a kick out of patting her dog on the head and saying, “Good God, Good God.” This sort of silliness tickles me no end.