(No) Vacancy

A long time ago, I hitchhiked from Grand Forks, ND, to Nashwauk, MN to get my car. (don’t ask why?)

I was lucky that day. Highway 2 was a busy trucking road; it went to Duluth, MN, the furthest inland seaport.

I got a ride with an eighteen wheeler. The tractor cab had a central intrusion to make more room for the engine. On the table-like structure there was a honking big crescent wrench. The driver and passenger were a pair who drove together.

As soon as we were out of town, the woman lit up a joint. They took turns enjoying the weed. When they got to the end of the joint, of course, they needed a roach clip. Given the lack of a roach clip, they used the crescent wench. 

After several hours it was soon time to find a motel for the night. My luck continued. There, in the forest of northern Minnesota, was a motel with a neon “Vacancy” sign. I got the trucker to slow done and let me out.

Of course, it takes a while to stop an eighteen wheeler. We had gone past the motel by then. I thanked them, and started back toward the motel. Darn, could you believe it, the “No Vacancy” sign was displayed. 

I went back to the motel, and went to look at the “Vacancy” sign. Actually was a “No Vacancy” with the neon sign broken between the “o” and the “V”.

I knocked on the door. There as no answer. I then pounded on the door, and yelled at them to open up. No luck.

My luck lasted. I stuck out my thumb, and caught a ride direct to Nashwauk.



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