DAY 2...still...can you believe it?
So we wander through the motel looking for the stairs up to the first floor. It's raining pretty good right now and we're looking to minimize our exposure by exiting the front of the building. We see doors with big holes from someone kicking them and then we see a door marked "spa". We both laugh and try to look inside...LOCKED...I'm pretty sure there's no spa in there. We exit out the front, having encountered exactly zero guests despite a full parking lot (I'm pretty sure they're all dead) and we run across the parking lot to the Happy Chef. The building looks like it was once a chain restaurant of some sort that had fallen into private hands. A little run down and a bit depressing. It's got to be 9:00 by now so all I care about is whether or not its open. The waitress/hostess/short order cook/janitor received us with the warmth and charm one expects from a girl working next door to a community of amateur chemists, pedophiles, drug addicts, and homicidal maniacs. She was professional enough, but there clearly would be no small talk or playful flirtation here. Only a few folks in the place...mostly locals...and we got down to the business of ordering some food. Bacon cheeseburger and fries seemed like a safe enough choice and I figured it wouldn't put anyone out at this late hour. Clearly the staff was counting the minutes 'til closing time.
So, while we're waiting for our food, drinking some Cokes and discussing the things we'd seen during the day, a cheery couple comes strolling in. I'm not sure how to categorize them...white...50s...upper-middle-class...maybe Southern...super polite...kinda bright and cheerful...probably driving a huge RV with marble floors and multiple slide outs...travelers to be sure. Suffice to say that they didn't blend in. They sat down at a table next to us and were talking up a storm about the state of the union or some such stuff. The waitress approaches them for their order on 3 seperate occassions, but they're not ready to order yet...I sense a little frustration from our cheerful server. She tries again and is faced with questions about specials and AAA discounts and God knows what else. Staff is watching the clock, locals are headed home, and I'm tearing through a decent enough burger when I hear the funniest thing I heard all day. The woman, who still has not committed to an order despite 15 minutes of pondering the menu and questioning the staff, asks to see the wine list!
What?!!??! We're out in the middle of nowhere...in a run down little prefab diner...with a staff that surely gives far more thought to suicide than can be considered healthy...dirty silverware...paper placemats...Christmas decoratiions still up in June...and you just asked to see the wine list at 9:30?
M!ke and I had a good laugh, tipped excessively, and cruised back to our new home away from home...half expecting that Craig had already lined up a buyer for our bikes and delivered them to their new owners.