The Bell Jar Refugee

goodwinter:

mother fucker was a hobo who asked me for money. just came right in here. Im in the motel office. it’s not busy it’s late at night. ive got my shot gun under the desk and a hand gun in the top drawer. Everyone pays in cash here. It’s that kind of motel where most people come to fuck or buy drugs or both. and go. not much sleeping, not many staying over night.

you can tell the ones that are married. married to other people and hooking up for the night. the rendezvous, a word that makes it even sound classy.

our bread and butter is cheating spouses, so im not passing judgement or complaining. but anyway, this hobo comes in and asks for a dollar. I give him 5 - ( i find all kinds of money in these rooms) I check em before the maids get in. i check for porno items left behind, I check for homicides, suicides, heart attacks, overdoses, broken glass, product, guns and cash. finders fucking keepers. once i found a guy, he was alive but this joker was in the bath-tub- it’s full of ice and he had stitches covering up where is kidney used to live. I hear they go for a pretty penny on the black-market.