We left Nashville, and made our way through Oklahoma… I can’t tell you much about the place except I went to the bathroom at a Starbucks without buying anything and a male barista said a very passive aggressive “thank you” to me as I walked out. So, screw you, Oklahoma!
This day of driving to our next stop in Amarillo was by far the worst, and I have no pictures for you. When we finally made it to the hotel in downtown at 10pm, a hooker jumped out of the car in front of us at a red light. To be fair, someone could have just been dropping her off in front of a bar, but I don’t like being unsure of whether or not human trafficking is taking place outside my Courtyard Marriott.
We parked in a garage and ran to the side door of the hotel as I braced myself for an untimely death at the hands of a rogue cowboy. The door was locked, and when the guard let us in he said they “just lock it at night because there’s a lot of homeless people who wander in.” Guys, that’s all! They’re only locking the door because of their trespassing vagrant problem! Oh, and I could trust that my car would be safe because of the fool proof security system consisting of a camera in the garage and my constant, obsessive prayers.
Just as I was getting comfortable in my new digs at Hotel Hobo, the front desk ladies told us that we didn’t have a reservation at their hotel, but at the OTHER downtown Amarillo Marriott. What do we know at this point? That, evidently, there are two gates to hell, and that my mother and I now have to run through the garage like the Beetlejuice sandworm was chasing us.
The other hotel wasn’t as bad, and the Japanese steakhouse next door only looked like a strip club!