Balls Capone

I had headed toward St. George this time and had gone probably four or five hours at that point. This was back before I had my challenger, I believe I was driving my old '65 GMC. I may have been a beater, but it could haul ass on the highway (as long as it was flat....lol), and shockingly enough, got about 15 - 20 MPG. Pretty good for an old 305 V6. I smoked in those days and that truck was set up perfectly for a smooth driving white smoking experience, which I took full advantage of.

I finally got tired of driving and my body was vibrating from the old truck and I was ready for my beer and undies experience. I pulled off an exit that said it had lodging and I found an old Motel. The perfect place, one of those old 1950's ones with two stories set out in a C shape with a little shitty pool and hot tub smack in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a rusty cast iron fence. I could see people in it and they seemed to be having a good time, so that sealed the deal. I parked the old GMC and headed into the office to get a room.

They placed me on the second floor in number 22. It was certainly what I was looking for. As soon as the door opened I could smell that strong smell of stale cigarettes mixes with air conditioner. The smell of good times. I brought in my 12 pack that had been cooling in the back of the GMC for hours along with my bag with a couple shirts in it. I packed lightly for these trips, I never stayed longer than a day or so. I popped on the TV and and cracked a cold one, relaxing on the bed, the crispy doctors office like pillow case crackling behind my back. Ahh, the sound of quality! Haha.

After a beer and a smoke to wind down, I headed down to the hot tub, see if I could make a friend or two or find something interesting. The gate creaked loudly as I pulled it from it's peaceful resting state, slamming hard and loud behind me as if angry I had disturbed it. There was no one down there, I was alone. Oh well, even better. I dropped my towel and smokes on a small table in the corner and slipped into the hot tub. Immediate disappointment washed over me. It's barely warmer than bath water. Oh well. I sat back on one of the jets, arched my head back and stared up at the night sky, watching the stars flicker, just relaxing when I'm brought sharply back by the slamming of the gate. It's some old dude and he slips in the hot tub across from me. No big deal. I return to my sky watching, but the old man starts making pervert noises, like he's being pleasured, or more likely pleasuring himself.

No thanks. I exited the tub, gate slamming shut I headed back to my room. Shit, I forgot my stuff down there. So, I throw back on my pants and shirt and went back in to get my stuff. Trying not to look at the creepy old dude, I grabbed my stuff from the table and headed back to the stairs. I was walking along the top hallway when I noticed a door wide open, just down and over from my room. Number 15 I believe. As I walked toward it I glanced in the room just to immediately make eye contact with a large tattooed guy sitting in the bed.

"HEY!", he bellowed. Oh shit, I've enraged the silver back, but he immediately followed it up with, "Hey, come on in!"

A much friendlier presence came over me and I walked back to the door to apologize for gazing in on him. He motioned me into the room and that's when I noticed a woman in the bed next to him. She was a decent looking woman with messy blond hair and they seemed like the kind of couple that was made for eachother. Both have probably seen the inside of a few jail cells and spent a few years baking in the sun on a motorcycle. But this wasn't a bad encounter. Dude was super friendly and invited me to sit at the little motel room table. The table was messy with cigarette ash, wrappers, beer cans, and an ashtray stuffed to the brim with butts, much like the one sitting next to the guy on the nightstand.

"You want a beer?", he asked me and pointed to the table where a few cans of differing cheap beer were sitting. Oh, great, warm beer. But I took his offer anyway and had a seat.

"Smoke?", he asked as he tossed a pack of Marlboro reds on the table. Sure, I'll have a smoke. So I took one out and lit up. I leaned back in the creaky chair and started to observe. I'm pretty sure they're both naked at this point and this is probably some kind of strange post coital activity.

So, here I am, in a room with two total strangers and we're just kind of sitting there watching TV, like I've known them for years or I'm some old friend that just dropped by for a visit.

"You, wanna go get a drink later?", he asked me with a friendly grin. "I know if a good place around here." So, I agreed, that sounds fun, why the hell not?

Then dude turns and playfully pulls down the covers on his girl, exposing her unusually awesome bosoms. He looked over at me with a big smile like, "check it out, bro!" And I did, I really had no choice, I certainly got an eye full.

She put her hands up to her mouth and went, "Jason, Oh my God!", but not in a shocked way, more of a playful, "I don't care at all" kind of way.

I'll never forget those breasts, they were almost too perfect. Like a picture airbrushed perfectly for Playboy magazine. The perfect color, shape, and balance. Her areolas had a perfect dark ring around them, like it had been drawn on, creating the perfect accent to her pointy nipples. It was hard not to stare. But I looked away and down trying to be somewhat respectful. She just seemed to get a kick out of it, let out a little giggle, and covered herself once again with the blanket.

"Hey, do me a favor?", said dude man. "Go get me two cokes from that vending machine down there."

Then he reached into his pants on the floor and took out a pile of perfectly crisp one dollar bills. These looked like they had just been printed. They were perfect, almost like they'd been ironed.

"Keep the change", he said as I walked out the door.

He must have given me 20 of them. Damn, what a nice guy. So I headed out, down the balcony and down the old metal stairs to the vending machine by the office. The bills slipped easily into the machine with no issues and I purchased two ice cold cokes for dude and his lady. I couldn't have been gone more than five minutes. As I wandered back down to number 15 I noticed the door was now closed.

I walked up and the door was locked, lights off. What the hell? So I knocked. Nothing. I put my ear to the door, no sound, just silence. The AC unit had been turned off. I peered through the now closed curtains through the little crack to the table I had just been sitting at. There was nothing there. No ashtray, no packs of smokes, no random beers, no cans, just a clean empty seemingly wiped table and what now looked like a completely empty room. If I hadn't just been in there, I would have thought that no one was ever even in that room.

Do I have the wrong room? Nope. I'm in the right place alright. But zero sign of dude and his lady. Just gone. Poof. And within 5 to 7 minutes with no trace. I heard no cars start in the parking lot, no rushing or hurried footsteps, no hushed whispering voices. Just nothing.

What the hell?

Were they just messing with me for fun? How did they vanish so fast? I sat there against the railing for a minute asking myself what had just happened. I still have no explanation for it.

Exhibitionits maybe? Bank Robbers? Random weirdos? Who knows. I headed back to my room and also noted that as I walked along the 2nd floor balcony, you could easily hear any footsteps moving along it. Thumps and creaks galore. It would have pretty obvious if two people with stuff were running along it to get out of there in a hurry.

I started to question my own sanity. Did that really happen? I hadn't taken any drugs and I had only had two beers at that point. In fact, I never got to finish the one they gave me that I left in that room. But, reaching into my pocket, I still had a number of those super crisp one dollar bills. So it had to be real, where did this money come from then?

I shook it off and enjoyed my night drinking my beer in my undies on my bed watching trash TV exactly as I had planned. But with my door shut and locked and the shades drawn. No knocks, no one ever showed up, and I never saw either of them again. I slept great and woke up refreshed and ready to go home.

As I motored home in the old GMC I reflected on my strange experience and reminded myself that this is exactly why I do these kind of trips. Strange and unusual adventures.

I do miss those kind of times. But these days you'd probably get kidnapped, cornhauled and then shot.