Saturday, May 30, 2009

Why I Skipped Lunch

Lawd have mercy, what a week! I think I actually smiled before I even had my eyes open this morning, with the realization that I wouldn't have to face the Cubicle Asylum. That place just gets more craptastic every day.

Around town, tourist season is upon us and the normally abandoned streets are filled with smelly hikers, happy families and retired folks on motorcycles. When the locals start complaining because we can't find a parking place by the post office, I usually join right in, but honestly? It's nice to see some different faces for a change.

I crept through town yesterday on my way home for lunch, dodging little children and about six people walking single file at the side of the road, kayaks balanced delicately on their heads as they occasionally teetered in and out of traffic. As I passed the lot where the old pub once stood, I got my first whiff of something.. wrong.

The faint aroma of raw sewage lightly tickled my nose then slowly grew, expanding in my nasal cavities, taking on a bouquet of fragrances from rotting carcass to stagnant cesspool.

What the hell?

I looked around, but I didn't see any dead wildlife laying around. From the degree of stench, it would have had to been like.. an feckin' elk, one that had been buried for about a week then dug up and doused with leftover porta-potty juice.

Because seriously? I thought I was going to hurl.

As I made my way down towards the post office and over the bridge, I noticed a stream of liquid running along the curb and down in to the creek. I figured it really was sewage and that the Grab n Go (and go and go) was having plumbing problems again, sending the run off through the middle of town.

Well that's just peachy.

Way to get those tourist dollars! Ya'll come back now, ya hear?

The aroma became stronger as I drove towards the Grab n' Go (and go and go) but I was wrong about the origins of the stinkiness that was flooding through town. As I passed the Swiss Miss Motor Lodge, I witnessed a thick, vile liquid that.. I shit you not... glowed a bright, florescent green as it flowed from the end of a large hose and into the street. My eyes trailed along the length of the hose to the source of the nasty, gut churning odor that filled Frog Pond Holler:

The motel swimming pool.

Now... I realize that water has probably been standing in there since last summer, but good gawd.. something had to have crawled down in there and died.. and stewed in the muck for six months.. for anything to smell that bad.

As I relayed the story to the Amazon last night, she said she'd heard the Swiss Miss Motor Lodge had been classified as a historical landmark, noting the dying genre of fifties-esque roadside motor lodges. We've decided that with that designation, they're probably eligible for some government fixer upper money and maybe they've decided to fix the pool.

Luckily, my trailer sits up wind of the motel.

Anywho...

I'm off to chase the demon kitten out of the dirty dishes. Ya'll enjoy your weekend.

Later Taters!

3 comments:

Marissa said...

Are you certain Cousin Eddie wasn't draining the motor home because the "shitters full!!" while he sipped his PBR in his shorty robe?

kenju said...

I'm sure glad to know you live up-wind of it.

BetteJo said...

Thank God you're upwind, gah!