The Green Leisure Suit - Part 2 - Pink Tony Lamas

I liked yesterday's memory so much, I decided to take off with it some.  There's truth, twisted truth, and flat out made up truth in what follows.  Oh, and I changed it to 3rd person .  Figure I can get a lot of mileage out of a wild weekend in Texas.  If memory serves,  I had a few back in the day.  Hope you enjoy it.


"Yank".

Byron has the bathroom door open a bit.  Lazy Eye Sue and Yank don't hear him.

Louder this time, "YANK".

Yank sticks his head out of the shower.  "What ferchrisakes?  Just what do you want?"

"Motel manager's out here.  Says we got fifteen minutes to vacate, then he calls Dallas PD.  You two get out of there.  We gotta go."



Lazy Eye Sue and Yank look at each other, then bust up laughing as they get out of the shower.  Only one towel hangs on the rack.  Sue looks at Yank, then looks down at herself.  She grabs the towel and hands him a wash cloth.

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Dry off.  Not like you got much left to dry anyways."  Her good eye settles south of his waist.

She smiles, opens the door a crack and looks out.  She shuts it quick, holds her mouth to stifle the laughter trying to escape.

"Yank, I think we're busted.  One of us is in trouble."  Her one good eye bores into the young driver she picked up last night.. 

Yank opens the door a crack.  Standing in the motel room door, A middle aged dude stuffed hard into a  green liesure suit is jawing at Byron .  He can't quite make out what Leisure Suit is saying.  The traffic noise out on the four lane drowns him out.  Yank can tell he's upset. Every other word or so is emphasized when he jabs a finger in Byron's direction, Pink Darlin's direction or Yank's direction hiding behind the bathroom door.  Each finger poke makes his green pot belly jiggle.

Byron's in jeans and no shirt sitting at the table built for maximum wobble Days Inn calls a desk.   He has  his head in his hand and looks to be suffering some pain.  Leisure Suit yapping in his ear can't be helping.  Pink Darlin is sitting up with her back against the headboard, a sheet pulled over her naughty bits.  Her pink boots sticking out for all to see.  She doesn't look quite awake yet. 

Byron must have heard the bathroom door open.  He turns in the chair and looks at Yank and rolls his eyes.  "Yank, you go out for ice again with no clothes on?  Mr. uh what was your name again sir?  Oh yeah , Mayfield.  Mr. Mayfield here says some folks up the row there caught you at the ice machine buck naked."  Byron tries real hard to say this with a straight face, but he can't.  He loses it and starts shaking, his effort to remain serious falling apart with each word.

Yank turns and looks at Lazy eye Sue.  "Yeah Yank, you did..  Left the room with nothing but an ice bucket and a smile.  Came back the same way.  But the bucket was full."  Then she loses it also. 

It took the four of them some twenty minutes to collect themselves and their belongings.  The whole time, Leisure Suit stood legs spread, hands on his hips outside the open door silent and staring hard into the room. 

Byron and Yank have been living out of their suitcases long enough to know you can't check the motel room enough.  Byron's rule was always check for forgotten items at least three times.

Pink Darlin and Lazy Eye Sue had gone to get Pink Darlin's Caddy.  It was parked out back of the motel.  Pink Darlin had not wanted any of her co-workers spotting a company car sitting outside of a Days Inn not two miles from company headquarters.  In the meantime, Byron and Yank began to pile their gear outside the motel room.  Leisure Suit says nothing.  He watches.  When Byron and Yank step into the room a third and final time to make sure nothing is left behind, Leisure suit follows them.

"What you boys after now?  The towels?"

Yank turns to Leisure Suit.  "No, just checking for the third time.  It's the rule you know."  Byron looks at Yank and smiles.  Yank has learned something since he hooked up with Byron.

While Byron and Yank check under the beds and toss the sheets,  Leisure Suit follows them.  "Boys, I'm gonna have to insist you pay to clean this mess up.  This goes way beyond acceptable use of the room.  How many people were here last night anyways?

Yank looks at Leisure Suit.  "Just the four you rudely disturbed this morning.".

The motel manager puts his hands on his head and turns around one more time.  "Uh, I guess $100 cash oughta keep me from dialing the police and cover the extra cleaning charge."  His gaze has settled on the table designed for maximum wobble Days Inn calls a desk.  Byron's bong is still sitting there.  He follows up with, "And you don't get back your room deposit for the week you ain't gonna stay here."

Yank feels that chip beginning to grow on his shoulder again.  The two of them had put up $75  each for the week they would be in Dallas waiting for the Bowie tour to kick into gear.  They had only been there one night so he begins some mental arithmetic and then stops.  Leisure Suit has them by the short hairs and he knows it.  He looks at the motel manager sizing him up.  Byron grabs Yank's arm.  "No problem Mr.  Mayfield."  He turns to Yank.  "Pay the Man, I'll grab the bong."

Glaring at Leisure Suit all done up in his  Disco King finest, Yank pulls out his trucker wallet secured to his belt loop with a chain.  He opens it, digs into the center and pulls five twenties.  He tosses them on the bed.  "Let's get out of here"

Byron picks up the bong.  "Hold on, can't haul the bong in my truck with water in it.  It always spills".  He then tips the bong and slowly pours out the stinking juice adding one final stain to the thousands of stains already living on that indifferent carpet.

Yank and Byron walk out.  Leisure Suit stares at the new stain.

~*~

Now I feel better.  A kind of conclusion or maybe a logical starting point for the rest of the weekend.  This story ain't over.