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the stanly chronicles part 1: cheap motel
My boss’s name is Stanly. He is about 50 years old and drives a big blue 15 passenger van. Stanly and I were working on a construction project about two hours away from where I live. Since it’s a drag driving back and forth everyday, we get a hotel room from time to time. On the first day of the job, I met Phil who was going to be working with us. Later, I found out he was a racist. “I’m not racist, I was just raised that way, ya know what I mean?” I didn’t. At the end of the day, we drove to a cheap motel. I was the first to enter the room. The first thing I noticed (even before noticing the obnoxious motel artwork, the stale cigarette smell and the nasty bathroom) was that there were only two beds in the room. One motel room, two beds, three construction workers. Zero escape. The second thing I noticed was that the two beds were not even queen sized – they were full sized. Phil turned on the TV and sat in chair. I sat on one of the beds. Stanly sat on the other bed. After quite some time, I finally got up the nerve to talk about the elephant in the room. I cleared my throat and casually asked, “So what’s the sleeping situation tonight?” Without a pause, Stanly jumped in and said, “It’s you and me, buddy.” I almost died… after I threw up in the back of my throat a little. When I regained composure I said, “I’ll see if I can get a cot from the front desk.” For some reason, Stanly didn’t want to do that, so he decided to share with Phil. Disaster avoided. But, AWKWARD… Mike – Calgary, AB