A business trip to Las vegas can never be boring, but after two days of stumbling over slot machines, lunch in New York, New York, Dinner in Paris and a walk through the Roman Forum, one quickly tires of it all—or at least I did. Just 100 miles to the north on the entrance to Death Valley lies Beatty NV, a small dusty nowhere town where Sharon and I spent a night 25 years ago during our honeymoon. We ended up in a theme motel called the Lori Motel and spent a memorable evening in a room called the “Golden Knights”. It was dedicated to Gladys Knight and the Pips and features a waterbed with an orange velour bedspread, a matching orange shag rug, a portrait of Gladys over the bed and 6 or 7 RIAA gold records adorning the wall. Oh ya, it was also a trailer so when you turned on the air conditioning, the room vibrated. Just the place to escape to when you yearn for a dose of reality.
The road up to Beatty was a two laner with absolutely nothing to look at besides desert and tumbleweed. Eventually you come to a large billboard telling you that the Brothel Museum is a mile ahead. Since it was situated between a real brothel and a room with a sign over it that said “trucker’s showers” I took a pass. (I regret it now.)
Beatty did not look like anything I remembered it to be and there was no Lori Motel so I stopped in a sleazy bar to ask where it was. It was 10:00AM and there were 5 women in the bar. One of them was about 85 years old and as she took a drink of beer, the conversation went like this.
“I saw Wendy yesterday. What a bitch!”
“She was always a bitch” said the old lady slurping her beer. “She is still a bitch, even after having her tits done.”
“She will always be a bitch. Now she is just a bitch with a boob job.” as she took another swig from her can of Bud Light.
Seeking a photo op, I sat down at the bar and ordered a beer. The lady behind the bar said that they were having a woman’s group meeting and would I mind having the beer on the “terrace” outside with the other guys but one of the other woman shouted out ”Let-’em stay” and that was that.
Their meeting went on for a while and eventually I asked where I could find the Lori Motel. The old lady took another sip from her can of beer and told me that it was no longer there and that it was now called the Atomic Motel and it was very ordinary. I mentioned that Sharon and I had spent a night there on our honeymoon and they warmed up and we all started chatting. I asked the bartender If she minded me taking a few shots and she said to go ahead and that’s what I did.
“Be sure to take a few in the bathroom” she said and after finishing my beer I went to take a piss and walked into the bathroom. In the center of the room was a wall-mounted urinal with high-riser bike handlebars above it. In between the handlebars was a photo of a naked lady reclining on a Harley. When I finished and returned to the bar, one of the women asked what I thought.
“Very nice” I responded but the real scene was happening in the bar. I finished my beer and stood up to leave but one of the women said “Show ’em yr tee shirt”. I turned around and the bar lady had her back to me and she had removed her jacket and on the back of her tee shirt were the letters VAGINA. which was the name of their club. It stood for Very Amazing Gals Imagining No Assholes