Ode to a Late Night Check in Roadside Motel Bathroom

Just kidding. I can’t rhyme for crap. This happened….the shower was an excellent massage—for my lower back. I can never decide whether to bend over frontwards and grab my ankles in order to rinse my hair or limbo under a progressively lower shower curtain rod. Do you see anything funny about the toiletry shelves in here? I am a girl who loves a toiletry. I could start a store in this shower. I didn’t take a picture of the floor because I am pretty sure you can catch hepatitis from looking at a picture of it. The door frame looked like the basement door from It and the door from that movie The Knowing had a dirty door love child. The bath towels were about the size of a paper towel. And not nearly as cuddly. I laughed trying to figure out whether to cover my boobs or my butt. “Um, can I borrow a towel, my car just hit a water buffalo.” Last, and certainly not least… Who makes a TP pointy when there are seven sheets of TP left? Um, the jig is up. There is no way to fold TP without TOUCHING it! Those squares have been rendered useless. And the rest of the roll is suspect. Pointy TP is weird.

ode 1

About peikleberry

What's to say? I'm a chronic fun seeker and life marrow sucker. I live in an ancient brick house in a darling town with my perfect and tolerant husband, my two amazing teenagers (The Giant and The Ginger) and two blue Danes (Oliver and Periwinkle). A lover of obscure roadside attractions and museums of oddity, I travel, write, laugh, make friends, write letters, sometimes run, eat great food and drink good whiskey. I've never had a bad journey and every single day is my grandest adventure.
This entry was posted in Just Being Me, Travel, Weird America and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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