The Boot

We owned a small motel in central Minnesota for three years.

One evening, a youngish man hobbled into the office. There was a medical boot on his left leg. We checked him in, turned on the “No Vacancy” sign and went to bed.

Morning brought the usual work. I unlocked the door of the young man’s room and nearly threw up from the stench. He had killed a six-pack of beer, tried at some point to use the toilet. He missed. There was a huge, stinking, reeking circle of urine in the carpet.

I ventured into the bathroom and was startled to see the medical boot upside down in the waste basket.

I hope he made it home.


29 thoughts on “The Boot

    1. We’ll never know, Sandra. It was just one of the many strange and sometimes funny things that happen when you own a small motel. This one wasn’t funny. We had to pull up the carpeting and underlayment, cut out a piece of the wood flooring. The stench was horrible. It was a very hot night, and apparently he hadn’t use the air conditioning nor opened a window. Disgusting.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Genre, realism, anyone? Written descriptively enough to make me want to gag just reading about it, Linda! I imagine such encounters with the seamier side of life was not as rare as you would have liked it to be.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Often, there was a laugh to soften the seamy stuff. Like the time some girls decided to use the bushes at the north end of the motel to relieve their bursting bladders. Terry went out with a very bright lamp and flushed them out–pardon the pun πŸ™‚ We laughed ourselves sick at the screaming and yelling as they tried to pull up their britches and run at the same time. We christened that area “The Motoilet.”


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