Last weekend, while "Eastering" in my hometown, my husband and I had the the privilege of spending our nights, due to a lack of sleeping spots and my VGP's ( very generous parents ), in one of two hotels on the edge of town.
We chose THIS particularly motel over the other because it is the newer of the two- and while it doesn't have a swimming pool, it is "nicer", if you will. And while it is "nicer, if you will, it is STILL a hotel. So it was no surprise to me that my very pregnant self awoke wide-eyed at the hours of 2, 3, 4, and then could never really quite fall asleep again. And BEING that it is a hotel, and I didn't want to deny both myself AND my husband the opportunity of sleep, I did my best in the wee hours to occupy myself with "things to do". Like reading with the booklight I got from my SIL ( thanks Jen, LOVE the snuggie it
came with as well, and BTW- there is a snuggie
pub crawl this weekend in Chicago... I am guessing that if I was properly snuggied- no one would guess I was preggers??? ) . I digress.
I read, I meditated? I think. I made mental lists and I stared at the clock. I played games like "close your eyes and see if you can calculate a minute"... and then opened them to see how I fared and would be sad that only about ten seconds had passed. I was bored. On morning two, having had enough of the folly- I gave in and opted to use the work out facilities. Which consisted of a tread mill and a weight machine in a room the size of a small bathroom. But it certainly did the trick.
The advantage of the "gym" was it's view. I was able to stare at the people walking past to either check out or dine at the free continental breakfast. And since there were only about six cars in the lot- this left a lot of down time, but still, who else stays at a hotel on Easter morning and is up at five, the people just HAD to be of interest. And they were. The "dog" sisters- two ladies in matching air brushed t-shirts of three dogs- each dined hungrily on a cake donut, bowl of cereal and a some orange juice. And they prayed before they ate. The "trucker"... the plain looking guy who drank coffee and read every corner of the paper... and then there was the "weirdo". The weirdo that has led to the writing of this post, because for the life of me, a week later, I cannot shake him from my head, and I just HAVE to share.
When he initially walked past- I thought very little of him. He was dressed in jeans and a normal looking t-shirt. No creepy greasy hair or coke bottle glasses or gold teeth. He DID have a stuffed animal, something like an old rusty Eeyore- but I assumed his wife and two year old would be soon to follow. No one followed. I waited- but no one followed.
When I finished up my work out, I helped myself to the free continental breakfast where I had a closer look at the "weirdo"... there he sat, at a table by himself, with the stuffed animal propped up on the table and it's own cup positioned carefully in front of it.
I tried not to stare as I gathered up my own coffee and cereal and newspaper, but curiousity, as I have mentioned before, has killed
this cat MANY times. And while I was curious, something about it also frightened me. I chose to sit in FRONT of him, so I would not be able to see if he was staring at
me. And while this may have defeated the purpose of my Easter morning spying, I am STILL 7 months pregnant and had just engaged in physical activity and food was, well, let's just say- inHALED.
As I ate and caught glimpses of him between bites of Raisan Bran, it became evident to me, that yes... this apparition of a normal man was just that. He was a closet WEIRDO! He actually had his "pet" set up to watch TV with him and was offering him bits of drink from his own special EMPTY Eeyore cup, while he snacked on his bagel and drank his coffee.
When I was solidly convinced that Eeyore was a special and very real part of this guy's life, I began to shiver as thoughts of roadside death crossed my mind. My fear outwieghed my hunger. JUST kidding- my fear caused me to gather my food and scamper back to my room as quickly as my wobbly butt and arms full of food and styrofoam cups of coffee could safely carry me- which really wasn't all that fast- but you know.. I tried to have my move on.
Anyway- even though the man wasn't technically doing anything WRONG- I still wanted to call the police. Instead I just woke my husband. He was not impressed.
All I can say is beware of regular looking men dining with stufffed pets. Something tells me there is MUCH much more to the story.
