A: So we arrive at our destination, the lovely and scenic Days Inn in lovely and scenic Kingston, Tennessee at around 1:00 AMish, as Lioux mentioned. These kinds of trips cost enough money without us having to hemorrhage it at every turn, so when we check into a lodging establishment, the routine is that two go in, two stay with the van, and we surreptitiously enter the hotel from a secondary entrance, thus avoiding the completely unnecessary fees incurred for someone else to share a rock-hard slab of concrete bed with you.
It’s late, and we have to scoot around the back of the hotel in order to get in. Elle and Marconi got the room, Lioux and I stayed in the back of the van to have a little drink while we were waiting. Marconi comes back out, raps on the window and gets our attention, speaking through the glass that we have to be super quiet and not create any extra attention, as we don’t want any issues tonight. He motions for Lioux to unlock the door so he can give us the lowdown on our entrance strategy. The door unlocks, Marconi pulls it… and the car alarm inexplicably goes BERSERK! Lights are flashing, sirens are blaring… and no one has the keys to turn it off. Lioux and I are now laughing hysterically, because we can’t believe how ridiculous this is, when I find that for some reason I have the keys in my pocket. I disable the alarm, Marconi waits for his blood pressure to return to a normal state, and giggling slowing trails off.
We decide that we couldn’t have planned something that perfectly ridiculous if we tried, nor could we have pulled it off with the grace of a comic genius. It was completely awesome.
L: OMG!!! This was all too funny. I didn’t know Aliewhere had a key. I knew Elle had a key because she drove the last part of trip to the hotel. When the alarm started going off I assumed Marconi had the other key. “Shut the alarm off!”
Marconi: “I DON’T have a key!”
We began searching our pockets, when Alienwhere announced “Oh, wait. I do have a key.” And shut the alarm off.
That was one of the best laughs we’ve had on the trip so far. And the whisky we were doing shots of had nothing to do with our hysterics.
A: No, totally not. It did, however, help explain how the situation became so funny so fast, though.
Epilogue:
A: In order to enter the hotel to actually get in the room and sleep for the night, Marconi had to “illegally prop open a side entrance” (his words) and it was up to us to sneak in unbeknownst to the hotel staff. As I am a ninja, this proved no problem for me until I noticed on my way in the sign that proclaimed closed circuit tv surveillance, followed by my quick dash in the door to see not one, but two separate cameras surveying the stairways. I whispered for Lioux to hustle after this realization, picturing some Southern-fried Sonny Crockett wannabe employed by the Days Inn specifically to assist in these types of matters cornering us in the hall as we were about to enter the room, thus completely incriminating ourselves. Then I pictured facing either a Southern-fried beating or some equally embarrassing face-off at the front desk where we would be not only made to feel like assholes, but then required to pay for our part of the stay.
Luckily, my fears were short-lived, we got in the room, drank a bit more, watched some RIDICULOUS videos on MySpace, and I enjoyed a mediocre shower to get rid of the road grime and gasoline I had spilled on myself earlier…
L: HOW did Marconi NOT see/know about those surveillance cameras?!
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2 comments:
In the words of Foghorn Leghorn, sounds as if your arrival and entrance were as "subltle as a hand grenade in a barrel of oatmeal". Those hotel/ motel rules are ridiculous. Who is anyone to tell me how many people are allowed into the bed that I sleep in?!
Wow. Next year I wanna follow you guys and make a documentary/comedy of your time on the road!
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