We have been living in a motel temporarily until our next place is finished being built. We were given some nudges to move by family and friends who suspected this particular motel might not be totally kosher, but it wasn't until the Police Forensics team showed up with an ambulance and a stretcher that we were like, "Oh, this is pig we're eating?" Prior to that nothing was obvious enough to warn us -- not the daily calls to the cops because people outside our door were screaming that they were gonna Eff each other up or kill someone, nor the smell of marijuana, nor the fact that I had seen a man arrested, and an 8 inch knife confiscated from his person. It took a confidential crime scene, one with a stretcher, before we got the hint. Hey, I don't live in denial, but sometimes I visit.
And that knife I saw confiscated? I don't mean the kind you buy at Target that looks like this:
I mean the kind that is more terror-inducing than David Hasselhoff on Dancing With the Stars, the kind that looks like this:
Like, no one should have a knife that looks like that except John Locke or Indiana Jones!
Still, even that knife wasn't enough to get us to admit that we were in a shady place. We were like, "But they have free Showtime! And the way the guy living below us always stares at us through his open window as we walk by makes us feel so safe. And that other guy who was kind enough to run after my car as I drove through the parking lot to escort me to my parking space, what a gent!"
Now we are nestled safely in a different motel. A much safer one (I promise Mom!). And hey, no Showtime, but hello HBO! And way faster internet, which is another reason why I am resuming blogging.
And that guy below us who always looked at us through his window, like a watchful guard keeping an eye on our cars among other things? Well I saw his face looking at me again from my computer today as I researched known sex offenders in the motel. Sah-weet!
