The trio of big block Mopars finally found their way onto I-255 south, and as we traversed the sixteen miles towards I-70, Rachael was studiously poring over her phone trying to figure out which side of the motel we would emerge on, east or west?
All four men in this caravan have been OTR truck drivers at various points in our lives, and all of us have driven at levels of fatigue in which legal and illegal stimulants do little more than keep your eyes open. There is a point where you can drive many, many miles on an open road, as long as you aren't required to make complicated or quick decisions, as long as salient and precise thoughts are not required. We've became far too comfortable at pushing the edge, but we also recognize the onset of impairment, and what steps to take to protect ourselves from making bad decisions.
I was driving fine at this point, but trying to figure out how to get to the motel was proving to be far more difficult than it should have been, and this was leading to frustration. I turned onto I-70 West, and upon seeing my first mile marker, realized it was the wrong direction.
"Dang it Rachael, I give you one thing to look up, and you can't even do that!" She didn't deserve the criticism, and I would regret it later, but my nerves were on edge. "How far to the next exit so we can turn around!"
"Four miles...unless you want to just take me to the airport and fly me home right now, you Jerk!" Apparently I wasn't the only one at the end of my rope!
I turned around, made my way back to the junction, and then inexplicably, and with complete knowledge that it was totally wrong, I made a right turn back onto I-255 south, and of course, the two idiots behind me followed blindly along! I was done with this game, and pulled to the shoulder, parked the car, and stepped out for a breath of fresh air. The Barnyard Viper, and the Charger joined me on the side of the road, and soon it was just Boone, Rachael, Darren and I standing in front of the Satellite discussing our next move.
"I just want to get to the motel", Darren overstated the obvious.
"Well, it's right over there in that clump of lights, but I don't know how to get there from here!" I retorted, "and Rachael's no help"!
"You guys are the biggest bunch of Jerks I know!" Rachael added, and both of them got a laugh from that. I knew I wasn't allowed to laugh, unless I intended to buy that airline ticket!
"Well at least she isn't throwing her hands around in the air and screaming at every turn... one more outburst and the old man will be walking to the motel!" Boone explained.
"I guess we'll just have to drive down this until we find another exit..."
"It's just right down the road..." Rachael started to cut me off.
"That's what it shows on your phone?" I interjected.
"NO, YOU JERK!" She stepped out into the road and pointed, "I can see the exit right there, Collinsville Road!"
"Ok, ok, we'll take that", I agreed resignedly and we saddled up, and took surface streets over to the motel, as I didn't trust myself to get back on any big roads!
We pulled into a complex with four or five motels grouped together, and made our way down to the Days Inn. The parking lot was absolutely full, but the Hampton right next to it had plenty of spots so we parked there and grabbed our stuff to walk across. Two guys were enjoying a pizza on the hood of their 70 Buick, and they chuckled at our body language as we crawled out of the cars and gathered our luggage.
"You ever want to kill your navigator?" I addressed them.
"Sure, but what're you going to do when it's family, right? They laughed.
"Yeah, hopefully tomorrow will be better!"
"Sure it will, just get some sleep! They added.
Rachael jumped in the shower, I stretched out across the bed and called Dale. "Where are you at?" I questioned when he finally answered.
"We're getting on the I-55 right now"
"What are you doing there? I had hoped to reach you before you ended up in that mess."
"No, we got turned around, and ended up in some little one blinking light town, and the cop pulled us over! He took one look at our car, our tags, and our licenses and figured we were lost! We had no choice but to agree with him, so he sent us this way."
I explained where the motel was and told them to call me when they arrived, then I took a shower and went to bed with the phone in my hand.
In what seemed like 10 seconds, but was actually an hour and a half, the phone rang. "We're here, where are you at?" Dale asked.
Thought was muddled, but I pulled it together, "Come through the middle door, the elevator is just in the hallway, go to the third floor, and just to the right will be room 303, that's us."
"OK, we will be up in a minute!"
I hung up, went to the door, and just opened it a fraction, then went back to bed. I must've dozed off, and the phone in my hand started ringing again.
"Hey, Are you going to let us in? We've been out here beating on your door!" Dale exclaimed.
"I left the door open for you, you aren't at my door."
"We are standing right here, looking at 303!" he said it loud enough that if he was at my door, I would've heard him through it.
"What motel are you in?" My mind was trying to focus.
"The one with all our cars in the parking lot, of course!" Dale retorted.
"That's the Hampton, we are in the Day's Inn across the street", I informed him.
"Oh CRAP, JAMES, We gotta git out of here!" I heard him say, then the phone went dead.
They stormed in the room, laughing like a pair of giddy schoolboys fresh from a Halloween prank, five minutes later.
"I had my eye up to the peep hole, yelling that I could see you, and you better let me in" James explained.
"It's a wonder the cops haven't been called, it's a wonder we didn't get shot", Dale laughed, "That motel is laid out identical to this one, we followed your instructions to a tee".
I'm sure I would enjoy the humor of the situation tomorrow, right then, I just wanted to go back to sleep. A luxury those poor folks in the Hampton, probably weren't able to afford.
