So RAT told me to tell my stories, hence an old one.
The worst hotel room ever and the chaos that followed
I was touring with this band out of Austin in the early 2000s. We go to LA which is my first time there. We have a good gig and go out with local friends of the band. We drink a lot. Off to the hotel we go.
The hotel needs a bit of description at this point. It is a Super 8 on N.Hollywood Blvd IIRC, but it used to be a mom and pop kind of place. Adobe walls, archway entrance to the parking lot etc. the kind of place that was all over the States when I was a kid. My room mate was the Bass player, who unlike me woke up about ten minutes before bus call always. I don’t sleep well in hotels, so I would get up early and slip out for coffee and a newspaper.
We get to our room, drunk as skunks, peel the comforters off our beds(in cheap hotels a must) and realize something is wrong, we don’t know what exactly but both realize it. Pass out.
Early am, I am up stupid early as the sun is beaming through those cheap plastic backed curtains. There is a weird yellow/orange light from said curtains which makes a high contrast picture. There is a pattern on the walls, cleaned up, painted over but visible with this illumination. It takes a bit for me to understand what it was, as the entire Swedish Army had walked on my tongue in their stockinged feet.
It was Arterial blood splatter on all four walls, the curtains, the carpet, everywhere. Given the placement I would guess from the neck. You could see a new spray from each heartbeat growing fainter. Someone died a terrible death in our room. I GTF out of there.
Part two. I pass the archway and survey my surroundings. It is a Sunday morning with fantastic LA weather. Across from me is a small strip center with a small elderly Asian woman sweeping up outside a nail salon. To my left is very residential looking. To my right a block or so down is a café, jackpot coffee and a LA Times crossword, sweet. Then I notice this trio walking up the street towards me. To be clear I have zero prejudice against anyone in the LGBTQ+ community but I am going to use the word Gay.
The trio are all gay hookers. They have been partying hard and it shows.
#1 Football (American) linebacker size well over 6 feet tall and huge. He is wearing a blue cocktail dress with ruffles and matching heels.
#2 Kinda waifish, wearing a shift dress(one side longer than the other), hair is a mess. He is twirling something on a chain.
#3 Blue jean shorts and an undershirt
#2 and #3 are having a heated argument, probably over the drugs that had apparently just run out of. All three were, obviously, high out of their minds.
This is all to much for me and I start to giggle as they get close, I can’t help it. Not that I haven’t seen it before, but after the bloodbath, hangover and now this…
#1 gives me the look and shakes his finger at me, my laughter is not allowed. I have a clear vision of giant man in heels beating the tar out of me in the middle of Hollywood Blvd. I stop laughing.
Just after they pass me the argument gets even more heated. Turns out the thing on the end of #2’s chain is a carpet knife blade. He steps back and in a few really fast motions slashes #3’s chest. Obviously not his first Rodeo with that weapon. Blood explodes everywhere, just flesh wounds but that had to hurt. #3 runs across to the nail shop and is moments later beaten out of the shop by the afore mentioned lady and her trusty broom. Look left and #s 1&2 are gone #3 disappears shortly and I am standing on the sidewalk thinking “what just happened?”. I say to myself “welcome to LA” and go have breakfast, coffee and a crossword puzzle.
Cheers
Jim
