Wild Side Walk: Pt 22.

(Unexpurgated) 1982: Report from the astronaut

I didn't fancy my luck to try any of the soda cans that were on sale, it looked like nobody had bought much for sometime, and I thought the insides may be rusted out. I ordered a black coffee which was good, and before I could tell the woman who had made it for me, I heard the door bang and she was gone. The door between the counter and the kitchen swung open, and a younger woman ran out. swung the exit door open and hollered at the exiting woman, "Where the hell are you going? If you're leavin', wait for me!" 

Pretty soon Ken made it clear he wanted to leave. It seemed that Ken had been through some pretty weird scenes in North Carolina with the local hoons, bodgies, red-necks, whatever you wanna call these dudes who live for their cars, guns, beer, pills, dope, and after all that go home and get into the ol' woman. We had certainly seen some real classic cowboys and heavies, and ran into more as we drove through the other side of a spectacular electrical storm into North Platte, Nebraska. The surrounding paddocks were intermittently lit by fists of fork lightning which lunged at the ground and tried to grab it in fingers of gnarled electricity. 

On the main street, jacked up cars full of guys jacking off, sped off at green lights, then braked early and screeched into the red at the next set. One bunch of these boys seemed to be following us as we drove around town checking out the scene and the motels. Ken was convinced we were doomed, so we pulled in for gas and when we got out, some other guys were throwing bottles at each other in the side street. It was real dark and I couldn't see much, but there was an audience of girls sitting on the bonnet of a big yank-tank with their backs against the windscreen hoping their men would come out of the rumble in one piece no doubt. 

Chalet Lodge, North Platte, NE

image from found postcard

The gas station attendant seemed unfazed by the din outside, and told us of a motel called the Chalet Lodge. It had kelly-green astro-turf on the verandahs, king size beds, and whiter than white towels and flannels all arranged vertically in a chrome hoop rack with the smallest at the top ranging down to the biggest at the bottom. The whole room was incredibly tidy and clean, the sheets crisp, white, and cool, and not a scrap of dust inside, or trash outside. It was quite freaky, out of character with the rest of the town.

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