Hello bloggy friends o’ mine!
We are back from the District Baseball Tournament – for the time being anyway. Our record stands at 1-1 so we will be driving 1 1/2 hours each way every night next week until we are beat out. Have any of you baseball moms ever hoped your kids lost?
Yeah, ummm, me either.
Anyway, we spent the night in Tourney Town over the weekend because we had the late game Friday night and a noon game Saturday. I was all proud of myself because I found a decent room online at a great rate. Notice I didn’t say fancy – we just wanted clean.
I should preface what I’m about to say by telling you I’m not a picky or demanding girl. I don’t think I’ve ever sent a meal back. Not one to pitch a fit in long lines. Not one to insist on my own way.
Not one to toot my own horn?
Seriously, I’m only trying to get the point across that I’m not high-maintenance – in my own estimation anyway. (Luke McKay, if you are reading this you’d better keep it zipped or you will pay, hubby. You will pay.)
So, we pulled into the motel I had reserved. Let’s just say if there were ever a new HGTV series of Curb Appeal: Motel Edition – they’d totally qualify to be the first contestant. It looked NOTHING like the web pictures. Those photos were obviously taken the day after the contractors pulled out a few decades ago. Before Luke and I said a word Boy Two whined, “Awww, man. Are y’all making us stay in this dump?”
Even with that, I was willing to give the place a chance if it were just clean. That’s all we wanted – not too much to ask for, right? I went in the lobby and asked the owner to let me see the room before we agreed to rent it.
Mr. Patel (really his name) led me through a breezeway to the room. We had to weave our way through a maze of old mop buckets, a rusted washer and dryer, and discarded flower pots to make it to the back part of the motel. He opened the door and grandly presented the room just like Vanna White showcasing a new car.
There warn’t no new car in there.
There were bugs. Big, fat, junebug–lookin‘ bugs.
Some were dead. Some were alive. Some of their broken carcasses littered the floor. The carpet had very obviously not been vacuumed in a great long time.
I knew there was no stinkin‘ way I was laying down in that room and I triple knew that my man wouldn’t sleep there so I gathered my nerve and said:
“I’m so sorry but there are bugs in this room and I don’t believe we’ll stay here.”
And with that, the Vanna-smile disappeared. Imagine telling some exotic, sword-carrying king that his only daughter – the apple of his eye – was indeed an ugly duckling. That was the look on Mr. Patel’s face. I’d insulted his pride and joy and he was not at all happy about it.
Wide-eyed and teeth bared, he yelled, “These just water bugs and no problem!”
I calmly explained that, yes, the bugs were a problem and again that we would not be staying. He then told me he was still going to bill me for the room.
Scary man with dirty motel say whaaat?
“Oh, no sir. I won’t be paying for a night here.”
“Yes, I bill you and you must leave my property right away. Right away!”
“Oh, no, you won’t and I am SO not leaving until you remove my credit card from your computer.”
And then I did what I always do when I’ve gotten in a mess far beyond my ability to manage.
And y’all his name was, like, the magic word. When Mr. P. saw me wave towards The Man in the Car, he totally freaked. Don’t think for a second I wouldn’t have scheduled Luke for a dust up on the playground if it would have gotten us out of paying for that room.
I’m shameless in playing the Hubby Card.
For any of you girls who think submission doesn’t work to our advantage? Maybe you just aren’t working it properly. Hang around awhile, my friends, we’ll get you straightened out in no time.
Guess how Mr. P responded to Luke’s buffness? “No, no. I promise I cancel your reservation. Just leave my property right now! Right AWAY!”
And so, we left. We found another hotel (the only vacancy in town) that cost us a stinkin‘ fortune.
And we slept like babies.