Motel Arizona
A young woman walked into the motel lobby and asked the desk clerk if she had time for a story. "Sure" said Felina as she counted the money in the drawer in preparation for ending her shift. The woman then launched into a long and winding story that seemed to have no point. She told Felina & me, since I was there waiting to count the cash in order to relieve Felina, that there's a crack head staying at the motel and together they had taken the short hike over to the Circle K on 42nd St.
Sparing no details she told us about waiting in line with a crack head who shivered in the balmy November afternoon in Tucson.
Somehow the narrative deviated to a description of the narrator running across the street in spike heels, a feat that so impressed an observer that he commented on her running ability and wound up paying for a room so she could spend the night at the Motel Arizona. Leaning against the counter, she let the neckline of her black tee shirt, that had been cut low to show her cleavage, reveal even more of her ample bosom.
The story was long, mainly because she used more words than necessary to communicate nothing in particular. I had taken the drawer and counted the cash to confirm that there were indeed 150 dollars in it to start my shift behind the counter before little miss cleavage ended her narrative because another guest walked into the lobby.
When there was nobody in the lobby but Felina and yours truly, I asked her who the young lady was. "She's a stripper who's staying here." She replied before correcting herself to use the more politically correct term, "Exotic Dancer."
"Really?" I chuckled. "Yep." Said Felina before she confided that the dancer had asked her if there were a lot of businessmen staying at the Motel Arizona? Chuckles grew to guffaws as Felina surmised that maybe she wanted to make the rounds of all the rooms, displaying her goods.
The episode was punctuated right around dusk the following day when the stripper sashayed into the lobby to ask if we had a conference room that she could use. Regrettably the answer was no, so she couldn't put her entrepreneurial spirit to work
Sparing no details she told us about waiting in line with a crack head who shivered in the balmy November afternoon in Tucson.
Somehow the narrative deviated to a description of the narrator running across the street in spike heels, a feat that so impressed an observer that he commented on her running ability and wound up paying for a room so she could spend the night at the Motel Arizona. Leaning against the counter, she let the neckline of her black tee shirt, that had been cut low to show her cleavage, reveal even more of her ample bosom.
The story was long, mainly because she used more words than necessary to communicate nothing in particular. I had taken the drawer and counted the cash to confirm that there were indeed 150 dollars in it to start my shift behind the counter before little miss cleavage ended her narrative because another guest walked into the lobby.
When there was nobody in the lobby but Felina and yours truly, I asked her who the young lady was. "She's a stripper who's staying here." She replied before correcting herself to use the more politically correct term, "Exotic Dancer."
"Really?" I chuckled. "Yep." Said Felina before she confided that the dancer had asked her if there were a lot of businessmen staying at the Motel Arizona? Chuckles grew to guffaws as Felina surmised that maybe she wanted to make the rounds of all the rooms, displaying her goods.
The episode was punctuated right around dusk the following day when the stripper sashayed into the lobby to ask if we had a conference room that she could use. Regrettably the answer was no, so she couldn't put her entrepreneurial spirit to work
posted by Unknown at 11/13/2010 12:15:00 PM
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