Moving Day (Non fiction)

        My daughter and her roommate got ’em some new space, so we helped them move.  

       Her car blew an engine, and the home AC froze up.  There was a fierce thunderstorm and it knocked the power out.  We moved things all day and I realized I’m older than I was last time. 

       With no lights or AC, we decided to get a room.  It was graduation weekend, and I think I got the last room in town.  

        I went to the front desk.  With no shave and the morning bath long gone, I’m sure I looked like a vagabond and smelled worse.  My lunch that day was on the move in the truck, and part of my chicken sandwich had stained my T-shirt.

        “Did anyone tell you the rate, sir?”

        “No ma’am.”

        She slid the paper across the desk.

        I put on my glasses.  “Oh, my.  I’m just a poor wayfaring stranger and need a place to lay my head down for the night.”

        “I’m sorry sir.  It’s graduation weekend.  Everyone is full.”  She looked at my T-shirt.  “Tell you what.  Let me ask my manager.”  She came back in a minute.  “He knocked off twenty dollars.”

        “O.K.  Thanks.”

        “We have a hot breakfast in the morning.”

        “Hmn.  O.K. if I bring my daughter?  She’s homeless at the moment.”  (Technically true.)

        She looked over her shoulder, then turned back around.  “Sure.  Just don’t tell anybody.” 

        “No problem.  Thanks.”

        We had very little good luck today, but we got her moved, and no one died.  Somehow it did me good that little girl at the counter took me for pitiful, (I’m not really as you know) felt sorry for me, and did what she could to help me out.

        I’m gonna go take a shower now that I got a discount for my sweat for the day.

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