I lie in bed at the Econolodge (catching up on my M&M reading). The truckers and cars whiz by on the 1-40 below, at a rate of about 1 per second. They are loud, a roar. I don't know how I slept, but I did, soundly.
Through the whooshing sounds I hear a lady's voice: "Amber! Amber!" Is that what she's saying? She calls again. "Dancer! DANCER!" I can't tell.
Has she lost a cat or a dog? Not a kid I hope. Woosh. Wooosh.
Bad place to lose a dog.
Also below the Wafflehouse, with its promise of pecan waffles and maple syrup. With strawberries on top. I watched the yellow Wafflehouse signs go by at a rate of one per half hour or so yesterday, my taste for a pecan waffle growing with every sighting. Marketing. It works, bitches.
Mark's done in the shower. Amber, Dancer, Panther -- has either been found or given up on. The lady with the deep smoker's voice has stopped her yelling. The trucks and cars never stop. Whoosh.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Econo moment
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3 comments:
glad you were able to sleep through all of that, though the trucks are not as bad as other guests, with their lost pets/kids, after a while the trucks sound kind of like waves on a beach.
Good to hear from the driver - being "cute, smart, and funny".
Keep up the good work.
I lost my Waffle House virginity only last fall. The food was gloriously greasy; the interior ingloriously nasty. Nothing but gimme caps, wife-beaters and squalling fat kids to be seen in all directions. I loved it.
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