October 15, 2009

Bad Bob and the bed biters.

When last we saw our hero, Ormond Bad Bob, we were leaving St. Augustine Florida in the afternoon headed for Pasadena California with a six wheel dually U-Haul truck loaded with household goods and plain old concrete blocks.
The concrete blocks had been his brothers college  bookshelves and his Mother was adamant that she was going to see that Dick (bad Bob's brother) was going to get them.

After an adventure with a blown tire, a incensed barmaid and a great lunch in a place I eventually felt was my second home in St. Augustine we got on the road.
This was 1973, not long after the original oil scare OPEC engineered gas shortage.
All of U-Hauls trucks had been fitted with governors to make sure that the gas that the renters was buying wasn't wasted. In June of 1973 I went from coast to  coast at 58 miles an hour.

There was also my travelling companion to consider.

I once saw Bob, aka 'Bad Bob', aka 'Ormond Bad Bob', cause an entire John Wayne style bar fight in Daytona Beach by lighting a stick of incense, but that is another story.. the guy wasn't "bad" in the modern sense as much as he was bad AT, so many forms of human interaction, and a few drinks did NOT help the situation.

So. Booming along with just over a ton of concrete blocks by the roll up door and after the forward load of shirts, small furniture, household goods destined for
Pasadena California we finally got moving, at, wait for it 58 miles an hour.
The first day we covered, after flat tire, about three hundred miles. We'd probably have pushed on through the night except for two things, one, we were headed for Bob's brother Dicks' house in New Orleans and didn't think it wise to roll in there at four in the morning, and two during our wait and after at dinner, we had had a bit to drink.

So we stopped in Monticello Florida. Remember now that this was 1973, the Eisenhower interstate System was in the last gasps of being completed.
We had been on and off I-10 several times in our journey already with more to come.

The last 'off' leg we ran down old US #90 for what seemed forever in the dark with not even farmhouse lights showing, until we came into Monticello.
"Jeez, I'm beat!" says Bob, "me too, lets hold up someplace for the night" was my reply, just as we started OUT the far side of Monticello and BOOM right at that moment a Mom & Pop motel appeared.
I've blocked out the name over the years, but it looked NEW, in the dark..., from the truck...

Ever shower with Sulfur water? Ever meet a REAL bedbug? Ever have to pay cash in small bills for a hotel room in the USA?

It was a long night.

About two AM I took the mattress off the bed, stood it against the wall, sprayed the box springs with my can of deodorant more for the sanitizing effect against moving things than smell and finally got a couple hours of sleep.

I had been looking forward to this trip for a couple of reasons, one I'd never been to California before, and two seeing Bob make an ass of himself in town I could only imagine that like a car wreck I'd not be able to look away on the road.

He slept through the entire night without moving. 

I scratched, squirmed, sat on the floor where I got to watch the roaches, and finally, like I say, I got a couple hours of sleep on the box springs.

Daylight came and I shook Bob awake. "c'mon, lets get an early start and make up some time!" I said, "mmluph,,, gorph,.. uh. "OK, I guess so" was the reply I got.

Breakfast was back on the interstate at a brand New SAMBO's soon to have it's own problems, me reeking of sulfur, Bad Bob calling me a pussy for scratching away, and by about ten in the morning we were finally out of the state, in Alabama, headed for New Orleans.

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