All sorts of things happen in hotels. Little did Lonnie and I know that we would be accosted on our way to the vending machine. She practically ran us over as we came around the corner. But the amazing part was how quick she was.
"Nice jams."
She didn't break stride and neither did we. Lonnie and I were down the hall and back in the room before we busted out laughing. Really. What kind of a woman says that to a stranger in the hall?
It's not like you wouldn't expect to see jams in a hotel. How often have you seen people coming from the pool with a towel around their waist? It wasn't like Lonnie didn't have a shirt on.
And the next morning, we saw her with what seemed to be her three young sons in tow, aged probably six to twelve. I told Lonnie that explained it. You have to be quick to deal with boys like that.
I should know.
After a tasty hot breakfast, Lonnie and I did the grip and rip on I-95 north. It was going to be a long day, with many miles still to go. The last several hours were going to be on back roads, so it was important to make good time.
Jams!
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