Table of Contents (summercircles) Table of Contents (Despina's Infamous Green Journal) (sumercircles) Table of Contents (Despina's Infamous Green Journal) (travelsfar) BackGoing to Meeting
There is no sensual pleasure in the world comparable to the delight and satisfaction that a good man takes in doing good.
∼ Tillotson
While empyting and rearranging
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I once spent the night in the wrong part of town in Albuquerque when the National Championship Arabian Horse Show was running. The town's posh hotels fill up fast, with many people keeping the same accommodations from year to year. When my plane landed late, my reserved room in a "safe" area was given away. The manager gave me a phone book and let me use the house phone to try for other accommodations, which took better than 30 minutes of steady dialing. The man then gave me directions, but DID NOT tell me what kind of a neighborhood I'd be in.
I stayed until the evening show was over, nearly 11 p.m., pulled into a cheap diner en route right before it closed, and was the only White patron there. Soon, the place had pretty well cleared out. A White teenage dishwasher came out and asked if I'd care if he sat with me and spoke English for a while. I'm not sure if he was really desperate for White company, or if he was protecting the dumb northerner who didn't have enough sense not to be out and about alone in the barrio...
I went to my motel, where the room was shabby, but clean. The door was very thin, with a good two or three inch gap at the bottom that leaked light right into my eyes.
Around two a.m., a BLUE LIGHT began flashing, doors slamming, horrible yelling, words I'd never learned in my schoolbook based Spanish... I cracked open my door to find a woman with a huge butcher knife chasing a nearly naked man wrapped in a motel towel around people's parked cars. The police were there, trying to get things under control. One officer was sort of in front of my door (blocking that avenue of escape). When my door opened, he turned, and upon seeing a White woman, his jaw dropped.
"Please stay inside," he commanded. Other patrons were out watching, some running around trying to get the knife away from the gal... (none of whom were asked to remain in or return to their rooms.) It was a real circus.
WAS I EVER OUT OF PLACE. Needless to say, when I got back to the show grounds, I talked about it, and found some friends from Minnesota who let me bunk in with them in my sleeping bag on the floor for the last two nights.
Where I had stayed scandalized the local horse show secretary. "Oh, we just can't have that! If you can't do better by noon, get yourself back here to me." I don't know what she would have done, but it was clear; the locals wanted no horror stories marring the year's biggest event.
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