After picking herself up, Azalea again began the process of making herself look beautiful. Five minutes later, looking fabulous, she confidently strolled to the counter and inquired about her car. She also asked if it was company policy to treat the customers like garbage.
"No it isn't. That particular driver will be swiftly dealt with when he returns. Now, you said that you had a reservation with us? Under what name was this applied to?"
So began the process of picking up the car, which took about twenty-five minutes to complete. Shorty thereafter she was in her hot looking rental (Mustang convertable) and receiving directions from the person who drove it over, on how to get to the motel where her reservations were at.
"Ya'll take a right out of the driveway here. Go straight fer about a mile and take a right and your second light, then straight fer 'bout 'nother mile, bang a left at your third. Go 'bout tree quarters of 'nother mile 'n it'll be there on the left. Got it?"
Completely befuddled, the only thing she said was, "Will I see signs along the way?"
"Why suuuure!" said the attendant.
"Thanks!" said Azalea, as she sped off towards the motel.
Along the way, Azalea began to imagine what Walter would say and do, when he found out that she was here to keep him company for a few weeks. Suddenly, a blinding case of the obvious struck again. Damn! I forgot to call Malibu to let her know I arrived safely. I better do that now before I forget again. Pulling into a c-store lot, she whipped out her cell and called home.
One ring. Two rings. Three rings. As the phone kept ringing, Azalea wondered what was going on there that prevented someone from answering. Finally, just as she was about to hang up after the seventh ring, someone decided to pick up the phone.
"Wurld residence. Who's calling please?" Must be the little one answering
"It's me, your step-mom, calling in to check on things. Is everything okay?"
"Step-mother," Damn. I'm still in trouble, "yes, everything is fine. I guess you'll want to talk to Miss Miller. I'll go get her."
No comments:
Post a Comment
Go on, give me your best shot. I can take it. If I couldn't, I wouldn't have created this wonderful little blog that you decided to grace with your presence today.
About that comment moderation thingy: While yes, it does say up above I can take it, I only use it to prevent the occasional miscreant from leaving thoughtless and/or clueless comments.
So remember, all of your comments are greatly appreciated and all answers will be given that personal touch that you come to expect and enjoy.
G. B. Miller