Room 112 – Part II
I headed for room 112 confident that I was too tired to care, all I wanted to do was sleep. Nice I thought, on the front of the door was a no smoking sign and I just remembered the landlord mentioned this was a no smoking room. A small victory I thought, which brought a small smile to my face. I opened the door and entered this dungeon of a room that smelled like the neighbor’s shaggy dog came over after falling into the swamp and stayed over, and over. I turned on the lights. I believe each bulb had 15 watt lightbulbs. I think this was by design so the guess could not make a full inspection. I felt like I was on a clandestine mission in the jungle searching for exotic bedbugs.
My first order of business was to discover my first bedbugs so I got my flashlight. Since it was a no smoking room, I opted not to use the kerosene lantern to brighten the room to start my search for creepy cousins. I pulled back the bedspread and there were some disgusting stains on the blanket. The sheets had some marks like crayon marks. The pillows had some stains. Every piece of linen looked like it never saw a drop of bleach since the Economy Motel was opened by the Colonialists.
Next, I pulled back the sheets and searched the seams for things that crept in the night. They were either hiding or got fed up, waiting for food, and left. Then I noticed the pillows. They were hard like stuffed bricks in a bag and a beige dinghy color. It appeared these pillows were stuffed with most likely worn out bedding and hand-sewn shut—some severe large stitches. Then there was a pillow with a stencil on edge. My first thoughts were, these pillows were sewn on the Mayflower when the pilgrims were heading to America and had nothing better to do, so they practiced making these pillows as a new skill they would teach the indigenous population at Thanksgiving. But after more careful observation, I noticed the stencil on the pillows, and it was then I realized these pillows were most likely bought at auction from the local prison. No critters present yet!
Next, I started to survey the rest of the room, looking for clues for where the local creepy vagabonds might be hiding. The furniture was vintage pre-antique. The lamps were made from some dense wood with unusual tribal carvings. The couch was a blood-red beaten down cloth couch probably used by the visiting dog. The carpet was deep blue with stains and debris. Everything seemed to be falling in place for adventure. Then I realized when I checked Trip Advisor, the reviews said it was a 4-star hotel, but I missed the -4 star. Duh!
Looking around the room, I noticed the curtains were worn, old, and were the same ones I had seen on the Munsters series back in the 1930s. I thought that was cool. Then I saw the smoke detectors. One was hanging from the wall, and the other had no cover, all the innards exposed, and I am sure this was the first smoke detector ever made! As an engineer, I got excited for a moment to see the Edison technology. What a treat!. Now, what happens if there is a fire, I thought? I forgot this was a no smoking room, so I started looking for a metal triangle and a piece of steel to sound the alarm just in case there was a fire next door.
Next, it was onto the bathroom. The bathroom had two decades of soap scum on the walls. The chrome looked like it never had an original shine, and the decorative mildew was in the caulking. But then I got excited again. There was a once chromed bottle opener with a catchment for the stoppers. I loved it so much I disassembled it to rescue it from the jungle, this was a real vintage find, but I replaced it. I did not think it was good to be an antique collector at this point. They most likely had spy cockroaches. The towels were dinghy, no bleach allowed. Good news! Hot water. Not bad for such austere accommodations.
Time for bed. I removed everything from the bed except the bottom sheet. The pillows felt like bricks and were just as heavy. I imagined these pillows came from Folsom Prison and Johnny Cash drooled on them. I decided to watch the TV until I fell asleep. No flat screen and it looked like the old vacuum tube kind. I turned on the TV, and the first program was the first Mad Max movie with Mel Gibson in Australia. Old motel, old TV, why not vintage programming. The video was terrible, but Mel knew how to limp. Changed a few more channels, and every channel seemed to be old. Even CNN had a rerun of the news from many years ago. Enough, I needed to sleep. Shut it down and went to sleep with my metal triangle close by my side.
It was morning, and I felt like I did not sleep a wink. My first thoughts were to check to see if my car was still in the parking lot. Yes, my corvette was still there out of place, but wheels even on it. I dropped my key in the little hole in the three-inch plexiglass and took in the ambiance in the daylight. There was not another business around. The gas stations that were on the same corner had long been closed and overgrown.
Even the tall billboards at this intersection of I -75 and nowhere, did not have a single advertisement. I guess drivers passing through this stretch of I-75 neither looked left nor right, but just kept their eyes on the road. A final look around before leaving, I discovered the last piece of nostalgia. I found an old 1970s antenna on the building for the reception. That explained the five retro channels.
Finally, I mounted my red four-wheeled stallion and headed out of town. Yippee, I aay! I quickly discovered why this place I just left was so desolate. Boldly flying free above the freeway at the next exit was a proud 20 x 30 foot, rebel flag brilliantly flying more than 50 feet high on a hill. I had never seen a flag that large before, not even a US flag. Yes, it was an out-of-body experience, and I felt I was transported with Michael J Fox back to the future. I dropped the top on the corvette, hugged the right lane, and prayed my way to Atlanta. What an adventure!
Stan Brooks, PhD
