The Old Cowboy’s Trip to Austin Part Seven

When the dinner was over, I followed behind the two young ladies that I came here with. No chance of getting lost if I follow them.
I told them goodnight and went into my small room which cost a large price, took a shower and crawled into that bed which looked so inviting.

Who orders pizza at three thirty in the morning? If somebody doesn’t answer the knocking on the door by the thirtieth time, take your pizza and leave. Other folks are trying to sleep.

Trying to sleep in a motel/hotel room is a lot like the man who goes to the hospital because of exhaustion to, now listen to this. REST. Of course everybody knows you can’t get any rest in a hospital unless they drug you with enough barbiturates to put you in a coma.
Anyway, the pizza guy finally stopped knocking, but now they must really be enjoying it because either they talk very loud or it could be thin walls.
I think when they build the dividing walls in these motels/hotels, they use the same kind of wood they use in mobile homes or house trailers, as they used to be called. You know those little two by two that are barely strong enough to hold it up.

Why do people pay these outrageous prices for a room and then don’t use them? The sidewalk /walkway outside the door had more traffic than a black Friday sale at one of the big chain stores.

Now that it’s almost time to get up I’ve noticed the traffic outside my door has seemed to slow down.
Too late to get any sleep now. It’s time to get up and put my life back in the hands of a female driver, but at least (if I survive) I’ll be home.

I told the driver (lady driver) on the way home that I had made two trips to Austin.
She asked, “Two trips?”
“Yes,” I replied. “My first and last.”

Home at last.