Memphian Delights

I tried hard to find funny stories during my trip to the Southland. Unfortunately the people were not as obese as I'd hoped, plus they were incredibly nice and race relations seemed to have a bonding-of-proximity totally lacking here in lilly white San Francisco. Thanks for not conforming to my stereotypes, assholes.

But the motel was awesome. You will recall our hotel troubles and Red Roof Inn reservations. It ended up being fine even though it could've been Anywhere, USA and we slept under thin floral bedspreads with flourescent lighting. All of my front desk encounters were great.

On the day we arrived, the front desk lady was a large white woman with a gold-plated grill. She did not enjoy helping customers. At all. I walked up to her and opened my mouth as if to speak. She arched her eyebrows, placed one index finger in the air, and mouthed for me to "hold on". She was busy telling somebody on the line how to defrost chicken breasts. The ones from the freezer. Just pull em out and put em in the microwave. Like a few minutes. Until they warm. Then bread em and just fry em up. She'll be home when she gets home.

Our key cards said "Room Service? Call Domino's!!!" in an awesome party font printed diagonally (which is totally the way to convey fun!!!). Anyway. One night we arrived home and wanted pizza. Kristen called Domino's. Nope. Closed at 2:00. Kristen called Papa John's. Nope. Closed at 2:00. We debated whether the motel had any food other than the soda vending machines. I called the front desk and very drunkenly and seriously asked whether "this hotel has any food items that are not soda pop." This night attendant, bless her heart, answered with equal seriousness "we have fruit punch...and Lipton tea."

Oh and on the morning I left I wanted to use the one computer in the lobby. First I had to wait for the front desk attendant to get off it. Then I had to move her half-eaten danish OFF THE KEYBOARD.