So, it's been a while since I've updated. With school starting, having to work my schedule around my kids, my wife's work schedule, and Friday night football (working the boards at the radio station).
I'm not getting rich riding this trail, but we're holding our own (my favorite line; the ironic final radio transmission from the Edmund Fitzgerald. The final part of that sentence anyway). And, I can say that in between the madness and the fretting from job to job, I'm having the most fun I've had as an adult.
After the job that never ended (a job that, had it been done right from the support end, should have been 2 visits and done, but stretched out over 3 1/2 working days, plus daily calls/updates over Labor Day weekend), I have work scheduled for tomorrow in Clovis and Portales. So I was very pleased to see a job come across my desk for Tucumcari, literally on the way, for this afternoon. It wound up being a very brief job, as the problems were related to power issues and resolved without replacement equipment, but that's the flip side of the "job that never ends" jobs. And since it was a piggyback job, I won't complain. Plus, it puts me two hours closer to Clovis, allowing me to not have to leave QUITE so early.
So, because the early rise can be difficult to facilitate from the back of the van, I decided to spring for a cheap hotel. Not $50 a night cheap, nope, that is high class for our intrepid High Tech Hobo. I went to the $29 a night joint, and I'm glad I did.
Shortly after I arrived, an older woman called out from her room, about 75 feet away, to inquire whether I had a lighter. I stated the negative, and she began ambling across the parking lot with her walker. I unladed my things, and after 5 minutes (yes, 5 literal minutes; I felt terrible), she again inquired about the lighter. Apparently she hadn't heard, and, had there been a gas station nearby, my guilt would likely have propelled me through its doors to accommodate this persistent individual. Fortunately, the motel's maintenance man (or something like that) came to her rescue, so no harm no foul (except the lingering guilt).
I settles into my room to find a bare selection of channels, which is fine because I'm really not that big of a TV buff anyway. I was delighted to find the wireless router positioned right outside my door, although if I thought the owners had any money, I'd probably try to pitch a router upgrade in exchange for a few nights' stays when I'm out this way.
After uploading my resume to a headhunter, and watching a couple of crime dramas, I decided to venture to the office for some ice. I debated putting on shoes, decided against, which wound up being a good thing as it prevented me from being overdressed.
I asked about ice, they didn't have an ice machine, but stored ice in the freezer, which they were kind enough to get me from buckets stowed to the side. I gathered that ice requests are not horribly common here. As the ice was being prepared, I chatted with the locals about the weather as they rolled their own cigarettes and sat around the table in the office. It was kind of a Norman Rockwell meets Jeff Foxworthy moment.
There was an older handyman early on who said he played the guitar, but he's apparently gone home. I was kind of hoping to stir up come picking.
As I headed back to my room, the young maintenance man and his apparent girlfriend were debating the severity and seriousness of a spider bite.
Good times. These are the stories you'd never get from a Hilton!
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