The Booger Restitution Conversation

Okay, the refund I got from the Booger Curtain discovery was only $8.00. But still, that is better than nothing. Actually, looking back, it was pretty funny. The conversation went like this:

Motel Owner Guy: "Somebody said you needed to see me?"

Me: (the most pissed-off tone I’ve ever taken with a stranger) "Yeah. Yeah. Why don’t you step
on in here and take a look at this?"

Motel Owner Guy: "Uh, I cain’t, ma’am. I’m a married man. I don’t cheat. Mah wife would kill me."

Me: "Oh, trust me, sir, I’m not trying to solicit you, okay? Matter of fact, go get your wife! Go tell her to come look at this too!"

Motel Owner Guy: "Uh, I cain’t. I just cain’t. Look, she’s real jealous an’ she’s gonna get mad if she sees me o’er here talkin’ to ya, so real quick, what do ya need?"

Me: "I need a goddamn kickback on my room fee ‘cause someone wiped their fucking nose on the wall! And I don’t even want to imagine what else there is that I can’t see!"

Motel Owner Guy: "Uh, well, I’ll have to talk that over with mah wife. I don’t think she’ll go for it, though. We’re sellin’ the place tomorrow so we weren’t even gonna clean the rooms."

Me: "Did you clean this room before I rented it from you?"

Motel Owner Guy: "Uh, I think so."

Me: "YOU THINK SO?! YOU DON’T KNOW SO?!"

Motel Owner Guy: "No, ma’am. I cain’t say fo’shure."

Me: "Well, where is your housekeeper? Go ask them!"

Motel Owner Guy: "Mah wife is the housekeeper."

Me: "So let me get this straight - your wife is a very jealous, very crappy housekeeper whose job it is to clean these rooms and yet when she does a really crappy job she refuses to let you give a refund?"

Motel Owner Guy: "Yes, ma’am."

Me: (*exasperated sigh*) I’ll be here until tomorrow morning. I expect at least a partial refund. Get on it."

I slammed the door in his face.

It was too late to find another place to go. It was dark and I was miles from any main road. I had to deal with the tissue-curtains or sleep in the car, the poor car which, having not been thoroughly cleaned in weeks, was busy developing its own colonies of mold and fungi, forcing me to play the game, "What’s That Smell?!" everytime I got inside. I braved the boogers.

Later on, while I was sitting outside learning how to whittle (more on this later!), Motel Owner Guy approached me and handed me a greasy wad of cash.
"This here’s outta mah pocket. It ain’t much, but mah wife waddn’t ‘bout ta give ya no refund. This here’s from me. Sorry for the trouble."

I immediately felt bad for taking such an evil tone with him. But not so evil I didn’t take the $8.00.