More Random Mumblings

Earl’s Roadside Motel 2

I’ve often tried to reason why natural disasters seem to be such anadventure. I can’t think of anything more adventurous than braving a tornado or hurricane or narrowly escaping death by flood. I loved it when we were trappedin our house by a huge blizzard without electricity or food for two days and wehad to conserve candles and think of ways to entertain ourselves.However, when these disasters happen to you, when it’s your homedestroyed by a flood, and not someone Herman Doe on the news in Kentucky,they, suddenly, don’t seem half as cool as they did from a distance.This is a microcosm for the days after my last stay at Earl’s RoadsideMotel.

Chapter 1

The last bite of my golden brown English Muffin got caught in mywindpipe, forcing my father to administer the Heimlich maneuver to me. Anyday, I think it’s fair to say, that starts out with you getting the Heimlich maneuver usually won’t be a great one, to say the least. But I knew this one would be abad day regardless of the incident. After a few days stranded at Earl’s RoadsideMotel with Millard Fillmore High School’s prettiest girl, Natalie Samsa, she wasleaving.I gathered whatever strength was left in my brittle, shocked shell and wentto the Samsa family’s door. I could hear Mr. Samsa’s random mumblingsthrough the thick door. Today, he was telling Mrs. Samsa about fiber optics’origin.I knocked, and it was as if God, himself, restored the lifeforce drainedfrom my docile frame. The angel, my sweet Natalie, opened the door. I was inlove, there was no question of that.“Oh, man,” she began, “I thought it was the car guy.”“Hello, Natalie, how are you today?”

She said she was fine, she looked it, anyway, that was for sure.Unfortunately, I knew the reason for her being “fine” was her departure fromEarl’s Roadside Motel.Departures are always sad. When my aunt, my mother’s sister, movedback to Arizona, it was sad. See, I really got used to seeing her so that it was nobig thing. Now I barely ever see her, and sort of wish that her departure hadbeen a bigger event to me. Another big event was when I stole a pack of gum asa kid. I didn’t get caught and have to return it, as you might have thought. I gotaway with it. I was a smooth criminal. I even stole a toy from the pediatrician’soffice once. It was a little plastic rubber thing, and I loved it so much that Icouldn’t part with it. So I took it home. Like take-out food. Take-out is definingthe nineties. Has anyone else noticed this?! My family eats out like three timesa week, and usually when we eat in, it’s food from the “five o’clock shop” at thefood store. We have no time anymore. This is why my thesis paper last year was “Why We Should Change the Day to 28 Hours.” I got a D. But I maintainthat it was because my teacher held a personal grudge against me. I still swear on the bible I was not the one who found the vibrator in her desk. That was JedPeters.Another thing about departures is that it’s a cool word: “de-par-chure.”I’ve always been partial to certain words: acquiesce, juxtaposed, paradigm,consequence, circumstance, unconscionable, and sand have been words I likefor some time. Some of that affection comes from the sheer aesthetics of theword (I kinda like “aesthetic,” too), Some comes from the sound as it rolls off thetongue, some the way it makes my lips shape themselves.So, Natalie was packing. I let myself in. I looked around. Natalie had her clothes laid out on the bed to pack, and I saw a pair of her panties. They werecotton, white, but they had some interesting color patterns on them incorporatingblue and red.I’ll tell you, entirely honestly, nothing in the world is as inherently sexy asbeautiful panties. I would much rather see a woman in seductive lingerie thannaked. Well, usually. Either way, panties are an incredible turn-on, for me at

least. The image of those undergarments laying inches from my hands to thisday can only be described as lurid.At that point, she said in her loving tone, with her angelic voice, “Jesus, doyou plan on staring at my underwear all day?”I took her hand and lead her to the window. Mr. And Mrs. Samsa hadsince left the room. Look at that, I thought. Here I am with the girl I’ve beenaching for for almost six years. She is the epitome of beauty, and I am staring ather underwear. ‘It’s time to make your move’ I thought.I leaned in and kissed her.Kissing is a touchy issue here. I believe it is the most affectionate of allintimate interaction. It is not fakeable. You can remove yourself, your emotion,even from sex, but not from a kiss. I’ve kissed plenty of girls, and oddly enough,four have actually gone out of their way to tell me I’m a good kisser. I’d like tothink that’s true.But then, there’s a lot I’d like to think is true. For instance, I’d like to thinkthe world is improving, the environment is being cared for, deforestation is aproblem we are outgrowing, and dolphins are not being mashed up into tuna!I was nervous, though, so I don’t know if I gave my peak performance.I waited for the next words, but there were none. Of course Natalie hadbeen kissed by many guys before. So I waited for her reaction…“What’d you do that for?!” she asked.“What?!”“Oh, I don’t know….I have to go.”“Natalie, please…I like you a lot. I really do. You aren’t just a pretty face.I really like you.”She leaned in and kissed me, “Call me when you get home,” she said,“please.” With that, she handed me the pair of panties, gave me a devilish smileand left. Around the corner, I heard, “I’ll be wanting those back!”