Once we left Canyon Lake, we decided it was time to make the dreaded drive south to San Antonio to find a hotel for the weekend. One thing you have to understand with my (now ex) husband is that not only is he a cheapwad, but he is also a sneaky cheapwad. Fine. He lies to get cheap hotels deals.
Take for instance that one time we stopped outside some podunk town in New Mexico a couple years ago and he told the manager on duty that he needed a room to rent for the night. When the manager asked him if he had a girlfriend or kids in tow, he answered “no”, because he knew if he told the truth, then he’d be charged more than the $19.95 advertised on a glowing sign for the night. In order for my husband to get away with such cheap endeavors, he does the following:
1.) Parks at least six rooms away from the main office.
2.) Arrives after dark.
3.) Leaves before dawn.
4.) Keeps a straight face.
5.) Pays in cash.
Which means that for the longest time during our early years of marriage we stayed at hooker hotels.
I bet those motel managers had never seen one finely dressed hooker as me.
(PS: That Hooker Hotel we stayed at in San Jon, New Mexico was the shortest hotel stay I’ve ever had at a final grand total of just 3 hours in which none of us got any sleep.)
So as we made our way through Boerne, Texas I got on Twitter and began asking around where decent, yet non-expensive hotels were located out of desperation because next to me driving was my husband who insisted that a good hotel rate was–that’s right–just $20 per night.
Someone asked: Is that by the hour?
As we made our way around the 410 and then almost to the 1604, I called my long lost aunt. Funny story about my long lost aunt. To make a long long lost aunt story short, we didn’t even know each other existed two years ago. Through searching for my father’s sister and brother who were adopted when he was two years old, I found two additional sisters and a brother that no one even knew existed. I was then confronted with the likely scenario that my father was born of adultery and probably shouldn’t even carry the last name that was my maiden. In fact, I found out my father was named after this other man and that at least calms my fears for a moment since apparently my father was called Butch growing up.
I wonder what the female version of Butch is.
As I talked with my aunt, she suggested we stay with her for a couple of nights. I didn’t care that I had only met her once, we got her address and were on the way asap. I was at last saved from a night of either A.) Hooker Hotels or B.) Roach Motels.
In the morning we would go see the Alamo.
Be sure to check out my other Spring Break 2010 Posts:
Part 1: Texas Weather is Like a Box of Chocolates
Part 2: Roadtrip Cheapwadry – Driving on the Wild Side
Part 3: Why I Don’t Drive on Roadtrips
Part 4: Canyon Lake
Part 5: This is it!
Part 6: The Alamo and I Still Have No Clue Who Jim Bridger Is
Part 7: Let’s Go to Luckenbach Texas