Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again Part Three
Title: Stuck Inside Of Mobile (Part Three)
Pairing: Bob Dylan/OC's
Rating: Mature
Author: Me, Jazmyn (X
Disclaimer: I own everything but Bob Dylan and the song title belongs to Bob as well <3
Author's Note: This story is based of the song with same title of this story.
--
I walk into the Food Mart for the third (?) time in less than 15 minutes and sigh and lean against the counter. I look into the cashiers eyes, my sun glasses in my hands.
“Know of any good hotels around here? And anyway I could get a ride? I don’t see a bus stop anywhere near…”
“Cheap or…?” He asks.
I shrug, “I just need to stay somewhere.”
“Do you have enough money with you?”
I pull out the bills in my pocket, counting them and their worth.
“$274.” I’m surprised I have that much on me even though my wallet is gone.
He nods, impressed, “Well there’s Hotel Malbourne.”
“Where’s that? Within walking distance?” I ask and he looks up in thought.
“It’s downtown, you could walk, but it might take a while, since right now we’re on the outskirts…” He tells me and I frown.
“I could give you a ride once I get off shift.” He offers.
I nod, “That would help me a great deal, man. Hey can I get a pack of those cigarettes?” I motion behind him, biting my lip since I haven’t had one in a while.
“Sure thing, 95 cents.” he says.
I hand him cash as he hands me the cigarettes and tell him to keep the change, since I handed him a $5.00 bill.
“So uh, in the meantime, you can just hang around here if you want…” He shrugs.
I nod and light up one of the cigarettes, “Sounds fine.”
--
Well, many people have recognized me while coming in as I walk down the aisles over and over. They’ve all approached me looking star struck and I eventually get fed up and leave to go sit behind the counter next to Fred’s legs so no one can see me.
Fred is the cashier, he’s pretty cool. He lets me smoke all the cigarettes I want, and when my pack is gone he gives me another one for free.
“You hungry Bob? When did you last eat?” He asks.
I shrug, “I had a few bites of toast this morning.”
I don’t worry too much about food, I only eat because I have to in order to live. So sometimes I forget to eat. Well, I always do. And now that I’m off tour and away from Albert there’s no one to remind me.
When I was with Sara she’d make me eat. She’d even cook for me, even when I told her no.
Oh well.
“Grab anything you want.” He says.
“I’m okay for now, man.” I have my sunglasses on and I’m smoking a Marlboro. “You smoke weed?” I ask.
“Nah, why do you?”
“I’ve done just about everything. I’m trying to kick a meth habit right now, so I’ve started smoking pot more.” I say innocently.
He nods, “Is that a celebrity thing?”
“What?”
“Doing drugs.”
After a moment of thought I shrug and look up at him, “Could be.”
“Well that’s interesting, why do you use them?”
“Touring got very hard, man, very hard. And I needed something to help me to keep going…They help.”
I stop talking as I hear a customer walk in and buy a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches.
“Fred?” I say once I know the person has left.
“Yeah?”
“You’ve heard me sing right?”
“I have.”
“What do you think of me?”
“I think what you’re doing is brilliant.”
I smile and take another drag, “Thank you.”
--
Once his shift is finally over at 5pm, he fulfils his promise to take me to the hotel Malbourne.
“Thanks man.” I wave, with a weak smile, getting out of his ‘55 Chevy Pickup.
“No problem, I’ll have a story to tell.” He smiles back.
I nod, “Me as well.”
I shut the door and give him one more wave before turning my narrowed eyes up at the building before me.
“God bless me.”
Then I pull open the door and walk inside, making sure my glasses are on.
“I’d like a room.” I say and the lady at the counter automatically seems to know who I am.
I bite my lips in a nervous habit and lick them.
She seems dumbstruck and I shrug, “Now would be nice.”
“Oh my, I’m sorry. It’s just…You’re…You’re-“ I cut her off.
“Yeah, um, is there anyone else that could help me then…?”
“No no, I can help. I’m sorry, um, what kind of room would you like?” She’s fidgeting her fingers and I feel responsible.
“One bed, preferably king or queen sized.” I begin looking over their selection of magazines, grabbing one then tossing her a quarter.
“Okay, um, let me see what we have.” She’s looking over a paper. “Yeah, we’ve got one king sized room left.”
“Fantastic, how much for one night and the morning?” I put the magazine under my arm and reach in my pocket for my cash.
“5.99.” I hand her a ten, getting my cash back.
She hands me my cash and the key and I nod in thanks.
“Oh and, don’t tell anyone that you saw Bob Dylan okay, that would be nice.” I bite my lip, turning back to her.
She nods eagerly, “Of course.”
I smile briefly, “Thanks.”
I walk up to the room number that’s engraved into the key and unlock it swiftly and enter.
I close the door and lock it.
“Finally.” I whisper, no more outside world.
But I’ve got nothing to do except wait for tomorrow.
--
To Be Continued...