Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears.

Weary from our travels, we exited route 80 just outside of Sacramento. Talon had been swerving to and fro and couldn’t keep his eyes open. Who could blame him? The day started at 7 AM in Nebraska and we drove through three states to get here. We crossed the boring flatlands that were the second half of that state. We traveled through the scenic copper-laden mountains of wyoming. Our excursion next took us over the salt flats of Utah. Temperatures exceeding 106 degrees lapped at our skin and nearly drove us mad. Then came Nevada. Another baron land save for a few mountains and small charming towns with invitations to spend your money on games and gambling at every turn. It wasn’t the kind of games we play, so we weren’t at all interested. Finally we were here. California. Our destination’s state. Music, jack in the box, and trading card games kept us going and we were all happy and settling in with the junction that has formed between us all. The vinculum that had been drawn between us after hours upon hours of sweat, laughter and crazy nonsensical rants made the trip worthwhile. So we came to now. Talon dangerously nodding and apologizing. Kiyuragood and I trying to make light banter to keep him awake while both of our eyelids dropped under the weight of the day. We had to stop. I called the hotel in Livermore to arrange cancelations and we began a search for the nearest hotel, motel, or any place we could lay our heads for the night.


We went to the first motel on the gps. Royal 8. What a dive. Prides of alley cats populated the crevices of the lot. The office window had been darkened with magazines covering the speaking slot. Kiyuragood rang the bell. An older Indian woman came to the window to address him. With his mind foggy and at a loss for words, he asked me to speak.

I went up to the window and asked politely in a kind voice “pardon, me, do you have any doubles? Anything with two beds?” the woman never said a thing. She just eyed me cautiously. As if she was afraid. As of she didn’t think I was worth talking to and shook her head “no”

I looked around at the parking lot void of cars. “are you sure, ms? No vacancies at all?”

"no. No nothing" and she placed the magazines against the window again and retreated into her cave of solitude.

I walked back to the car slightly confused. While i watched a mother cat clean her kitten under a street lamp in a parking space at the other end of the blacktop, kiyuragood spoke.

"hmm. That was weird."

"do you see many cars here?" I mused.

Talon broke the silence. “babe. She thought you were a hooker.”

I glanced down at my tights under my shorts. My plaid flannel shirt tied around my waist and my chest pushed up from the new bra I had gotten the day before. He was right. I certainly looked like a hooker. I turned bright red which no one could see in the dim of the street lamps, which I was glad of. When we got in the car I immediately buried my head in a blanket.

"I can’t believe she thought that!" I whined. "I’m a nice girl! I’m not trashy! I just wanna play yu-gi-oh!" we drove away and I lifted my head up just in time to see a young girl with a short gold lamé skirt and matching 6 inch heels connected by black fishnets.

Tilting my head, I came to the moral of tonight’s story: Don’t be a pretty girl with big boobs traveling with two guys while wearing tights. Goodnight all. I hope you learn from this. ~.^

What’s out the window keeps changing.

What’s out the window keeps changing.