Last night at the Holiday Inn Express

I was sitting in my room last night at the Holiday Inn Express here in De Forest. The pizza made me feel kind of sick. Ate too much. But I decided to make the best of it. Prayed. Read some St. Aelred. It was in the glove compartment.

I turned on the TV and paged through the phone book. Are "Escort Services" really just prostitution? They appear to be. Sad. I closed the phone book and turned off the TV. I thought, "I should get out a rosary or something." But I was distracted by voices through my door. I got up and walked closer. I could hear what they were saying.

"No, he's fine now." A young woman.

"Well... What did your mom and dad say?" A young man.

"Nothing, what do you think?" The girl again.

Silence.

"Hey, I need a cigarette." The boy.

"Alright."

I thought maybe he was going to smoke right then and there, but he didn't. They walked away. I opened my door and walked after them. I caught up with them in the back parking lot of the motel. Standing and smoking. They looked cold through the glass doors. I walked through the glass doors and stood behind them. They turned their heads a little to see who it was and stopped talking. There was quiet. For about 45 seconds.

"Um... Are you waiting for someone?" The girl.

"No," I said.

15 seconds.

"Do you smoke?" The girl. They still both had their backs to me.

"No," I said. "But my brother does."

Thirty seconds.

"This is probably awkward for you," I said.

They laughed and looked at me and stopped pretending I didn't exist.

The boy said to me, "So are you just bored or what?"

I said, "I wonder sometimes. What do you think I am?" The girl giggled and the boy smiled, but the corners of his mouth were turned down.

"A mechanic," the girl said. She had on a fleece and a pair of tight jeans. I thought I recognized her from a group photo in the Culver's of the 2004 varsity soccer team. Ponytail. "Who's Amish," she said.

"And you," I said to the boy. He didn't have a baseball cap on. He had a long-sleeve t-shirt and jeans and Adidas shoes. Sort of a patchy 5 o'clock shadow--but it was dark and hard to see. "What do you think I am?"

He took a drag on his cigarette. Which was perfect. "Could be a weirdo," he said. I thought that was unusual, because he wasn't bigger than me. He either had a gun in his truck or could tell I was harmless.

"I'm a dislodged evangelist," I said.

The boy laughed and said, "Here we go!" He leaned forward, taking the last drag on his cigarette, then threw it into the parking lot. "Listen, we gotta go."

I said, "Probably."

The boy walked past me and opened the door. The girl walked past and said, "Bye."

In His Most Holy Name.

Horace.