I watched the desk clerk run my credit card the old fashioned, imprinting way, for somewhere just over fifty dollars. Samantha and I walked out of the reception office into the parking lot, the sun beaming down and forcing me to narrow my eyesight in light of the glare. We peered around to get an idea of where our motel room was going to be, and located the general section of where it was. Oddly, it was a stand-alone block of rooms that was in the middle of the U-shaped motel establishment, and acted as kind of a barrier to keep the swimming pool are out of view of the parking lot and the adjacent traffic from the entry point of the property.
Regardless, we headed to our room, me feeling a twinge of excitement, a mixture of anxiety, lust, and anticipation; Samantha was a cute girl with short brown hair, and she was right about the same height as I was, to say that there was one thing on my mind would have been a bit of an understatement. Glancing back at her, such emotion and thoughts must’ve been running through her head too, as we made our way to the entrance to our room.
It was an odd door, that was split in the middle horizontally, that opened like the lid to a grill. We stepped into our room and walked into the main chamber; and then just like that, all the excitement and anticipation was gone. The room was in absolute shambles. It was an atrocious mess, with the bed in disarray, the furniture strewn around, and the room overall looking dingy. Samantha was paralyzed with shock at the abhorring sight, and I myself was quite mortified as well.
I stepped carefully, as I didn’t want to disturb the random trash that was on the floor in addition to the ransacked appearance. As I softly kicked the foot of the bed, I gasped slightly at the sight of small roaches scattering about. I turned around, and Samantha was already out of the room, and back outside, arms crossed in disgust. I ventured further into the room to survey this hellhole that this establishment had the audacity to rent me, and thought to myself just how in the hell did people on hotels.com actually give this place a three-star rating?
Somewhere in the next half hour or so, Samantha and I had ordered food to be delivered to our room, as we were quite hungry, but I continued to examine just how bad shape the room was in. Samantha was back at the front desk, ripping the clerk a new asshole in the meantime.
After I had seen enough, I made my way back to the door of the room, and sleeping in the foyer, was a large, fat man, wearing a stretched out wife beater, and stinking of god-knows what. It’s clear that his presence answered a lot of questions, but it did not change the fact that our experience was most certainly ruined, and that even a replacement room was out of the question.
On my way back to the front to meet up with Samantha, I saw that a bum had somehow managed to intercept our delivery food, and was feasting heartily at the free grub he had managed to swindle into acquiring. For the matter, the entire parking lot was full of undesirable persons suddenly, and it was also no longer sunny outside.
Needless to say, Samantha and I weren’t going to be staying at this place for the night, and it was a pretty safe bet that the thought of exciting hotel sex wasn’t going to happen tonight, no matter where we ended up alternatively.
So anyway, this is the dream that woke me up at 4:00 a.m. last night. Exciting prospective sexy dream, somehow derailed by hotel room-meets–Silent Hill, caused by bums and trash. Even in my dreams, I somehow fail to get laid, and it left me wondering what kind of meaning is to be derived from such subconscious thoughts.
Her name wasn’t Samantha, either, but for the sake of story-telling, I felt the necessity to give the unnamed girl in my dreams a name regardless. All I do know, is that if I ever want to have exciting hotel sex in the future, I’m never taking a girl to a fucking Econolodge.
Speaking of sleep, as I was dozing off last night, with the TV turned onto Sirius channel Symphony Hall, I was rudely awakened at around 11:50 p.m. by a completely unfamiliar blathering voice on the television. Talking about breaking news, and that I needed to quickly turn to a news outlet, to find out more. I admit, it was unusual, and did provoke some curiosity, but I was comfortable, albeit a little agitated from the abrupt awakening, so I didn’t bother to get out of bed and turn it to a news station. Instead, my mind drifted to Dawn of the Dead remake, how the couple in the beginning was too busy having sex in the shower to hear about the impending zombie apocalypse, and how I too, was probably just going to sleep through initial word of the real zombie apocalypse in my current situation.
Upon waking up, it turns out that it was some pretty interesting news that warranted interrupting all forms of media, be it terrestrial or satellite. There’s a joke in here somewhere about Arabs, Team America, and a “Fuck Yeah,” but I’m busy enjoying my lasagna to come up with one, so I’ll stick with the sentiment that I guess I’m glad it happened, like everyone else is, in this case.
