We’ve had some goofy things happen at motels, mostly because the Eidens aren’t always seemingly burdened with brains. Actually, Gar is usually his sane, reliable, savvy self, but his sidekick can really throw a wingnut in his rational toolbox. If he wasn’t an introvert, he’d ask strangers to save him.   

When we’re going to be in a town awhile, I book a nice hotel. If we’re only staying one night, I’m not so picky. I’ve found that spending a lot of money doesn’t always guarantee cleanliness. In fact, it’s uncommon to find a motel that meets the standards of a few years ago. Thus, I bring disinfectant wipes.

Last year, we stayed at a motel in Dyersburg, Tennessee. Gar wasn’t feeling well, so with chest congestion, I didn’t want him getting other bugs. I was using wipes on all doorknobs, faucets, light switches and remotes when Lunny called.

Telling her I was cleaning because her dad was sick, she remarked, “Oh, good. You need to keep Dad safe in that room.”

I said, “Well, I tell him to stay in the truck, but he keeps following me into the motel.”

The next evening, we pulled into a decent looking inn with beautiful trees surrounding it. After paying, we walked around the back, the wind hitting us in the face, and realized it was really cold for November in the south. I tried to unlock the door but it wouldn’t budge.

I tried again. Nothing. With the eyes in the back of my head I saw Gar frown, so I handed him the keycard.

He stepped forward, very manly put in the card, and the door showed him who was boss. Setting my purse down, I trotted to the lobby.

Entering, the clerk raised her head and asked, “Is the door stuck?”

Without missing a beat, she pulled a butane blowtorch from behind the counter. As I followed her back, I considered maybe she’d just about had enough and was going to torch the place.

Getting to our door, she expertly blasted flame at the lock, then holding her hand out for our keycard, she put it in.

Nothing.

She hit it twice more then; like magic, the door clicked and we were open for business. Marveling at her ingenuity, I asked what the deal was and she explained with a sigh that the back side of the inn was next to the river and when it got chilly, the doors would seize up.

When I asked why they didn’t replace something, she shrugged, “Actually, the doors are new, but they are outside doors with interior locks for hotels with inside corridors.”

She laughed, mentioning she was pretty sure the owners had gotten a bargain. I laughed too, telling her she could always become a welder if the motel business ever folded. Inwardly, I cringed.

I admired how clever she’d used that fire, because we all know me, and the first time I’d have used it would have been the last time, because I’d have inadvertently burned the neighborhood right to the ground.

One night in Alexandria, Virginia, we pulled into a gas station and right behind it was a Cracker Barrel. Right behind that was a La Quinta then behind that was a Hampton Inn, where we decided to stay. I got a room while Gar got our luggage, but the keycard wouldn’t work to get in the outside back door so we had to go around the front through the lobby.

Getting to our room, the card wouldn’t work again, and I started to growl when Gar calmly pointed at the room number saying, “This is 332. Ours is 331.”

Oh yeah. Then it worked fine. Imagine that, and aren’t we glad nobody in that room heard me fiddling.

We dropped our bags and walked to Cracker Barrel, going to the left, maneuvering around a ditch, bushes and fence. After eating, we headed right, avoiding the obstacle course, but it was dark, and I was in the lead, a critical error and poor judgement on Gar’s part.

Approaching the hotel, a young man in army fatigues was outside talking to a woman. I put our card in the door but it wouldn’t open. He kindly used his, and held the door for us.

When we got to the pool, Gar stated, “We’re in the wrong motel.”

I was like, “We are?”

Sure enough, that little army guy let ax murderers stride right in. Gar messing up is so rare, I laughed uproariously. Mr. Flawless … not so much.