And on it went until Jackie woke up and made her way into the bathroom while I gazed out the window and studied the rain, keeping out of her way. We both decided that since there were no clothes washers available here (or for that matter all the places we stayed), we'd pop some undies and t-shirt in the bathroom sink, toss in one of those little soaps that is are always around hotel bathrooms, like this:
and then scrub like your grandma did on washing day. With the completion of scrubbing of the undies, we now had the problem of drying them. Jackie's dryer had all the power of a wheezing '76 Chevette trying not to loose too many parts as it tries to get the driver (yes obviously that's me) home before more parts fell off, wheezing up the driveway. RIP Chevette 1976. RIP Jackie's hair dryer. Desperate times call for desperate measures so I pulled the room's hair dryer off the wall,and, steering it as well as I could a Sherman tank, moving it in a 1-2-3-4 step ,over left part of each of piece of clothing, then to right top, and right bottom. I'd flip the clothes over and take a look check of the back. and if it was 90% not wet, that worked. Tom 1, smell 0
Jackie had finished her shower so then I stepped in for handicapped people. What I saw was two extra "grab" bars on the tubs wall to catch when me if I fell, The motel must have the idea that we disabled clean from, as we are shown the tub bars signs, that if true we (that is, fall (and we do) we fall to the left. Alas, I fall to the right and therefore may not able to grab any bar, let alone if the shower curtain would help as I went down which past events not documented here. I mean, it didn't help Janet Leigh in "Psycho". Grab for it and all pull
Anyway, we put on our clothes, dried and still lightly wet and found where breakfast was being served. The coffee was amazingly good, but otherwise we all opted for cereal and juice.
I made my apologies to our tour guide and Doug the bus driver for my lunacy the previous night, was immediately assured that they'd seen worse over the years, and to not give it another thought. I just figured I now was on the No-Bus list and, after two years on the No-fly list (2001-2002), might never leave Clifton Park again noted as a terrorist once again. And if in Clifton Park, NY I must stay, I have my wife, our condo, movies and library, medical help nearby. Florida? I'll Uber somebody.
I looked about as we drove away from the Burger King and Motel Hell, Jr., I wondered why both sides of the road are heaps of slate (Plug for the Slate Museum in Granville, NY). Was it always slate? Are there still buildings under those piles? People? Have the people degenerated in being slate people? Were we the menu for the Slate People? Maybe the Slate People captured these poor folks and made them pawns as they offer food and shelter to those who dare and if you come outside on the wrong night, you might as say bye-bye to your life. You'll flip the burgers, and "clean" alll the rooms until you too. No one is there to notice as most folks dash out of both business, that the guy last seen smoking a cigar who was standing in front of the is now scrubbing the Burger King floors forever, his cigar comprised now and forever the flavor Whopper wrapping, the toilets, and spoiled milk from unclaimed chocolate shakes. People go toward the bathrooms, turn left and are never seen again. Slate people.
But I digress.
It was a Neil Sedaka rain ("Ooo, I love sleeping on the bus, trying not to drool on the one I love") as we headed northwest toward The Place. I was shaking awake as we approached our target, but we had to avoid a few traffic accidents. I was taken again by the luscious greenery, the majestic homes of the wealthy, the quiet decomposition of those failed ideas and if any humans remain in these homes, they are there still puzzled why things appear the same but it all looks so strange, warped in the same way a plastic chair doesn't dissolve on hot way. These things are more Stephen King territory.
We continued in the slight rain to our next and, for yours truly, the only and best thing on the trip...