Author's note: the following story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The author wishes to express his gratitude to Copperbutterfly for her editing to make this a better story.
Seven weeks, three days and ... who knew how many hours. That's how long I had been on the road, this time. It was getting old, very old. Here it was July and I'd been home a total of 29 days this year.
Oh, I'll admit that I loved my job. I got to deal with some of the more down-to-earth, honest people on the planet – America's farmers. My job was actually a two-fold one: I sold feed on long-term contracts to both dairy and beef cattle growers, and I bought grain and hay on long-term contracts from those who planted and harvested such. My employer, in turn, took the raw materials, mixed them into various compounds and sold them to those who needed them. The company was one of the largest in the country at what it did.
For me though, it meant travel. Farmers, unlike bankers or manufacturers, tend to want to deal face to face. You couldn't sit somewhere in a glass-enclosed office and call them and make the kinds of deals we needed. They wanted to "see" if you were honest. That meant going where they were, meeting with them when they were available. A lot of my contracts were signed in hot, smelly barns or in fields beside a roaring tractor under the hot sun.
I guess the only thing that made the job bearable (other than pretty good compensation) was the fact that I had no family to worry about or to rush back home to. Still I missed my own bed. I missed making my own home-cooked meals.
My company provided very decent transportation for me. They purchased the gas and oil, gave me a decent per diem for meals, and paid for nice motels at night. I had an allowance for laundry as well as sundry other items.
Most days, I planned my itinerary so that I'd be close to a decent sized town at night. That way I had a better chance of finding a reasonably comfortable motel for the night. I had spent my share of nights in run-down ramshackle places that I knew better than to take chances.
This evening my plans had gone awry. I was deep in the heart of Arkansas, well off the beaten path, pursuing the products of several rice farmers. It was very important for us to reach agreement with a number of the larger growers because we needed the byproducts of their growing process for some of our specialty feeds. The first couple had been easy but the next three had been leery of dealing with my company ... or maybe any company. It took four or five times as long as it should to convince them that we were legit and to sign the contracts.
By the time I was finished, it was too late to drive to where I had hoped to spend the night. I began searching for anything that looked reasonable. I went through one little town after another. Some had no motels, while a few had motels but they looked like flea bags. Finally, as I was about ready to give up and sleep in the car, I found one that looked old but decent.
It wasn't surprising that there was nobody at the counter when I went in. I rang the bell and waited. It must have been three minutes before a rather frazzled looking woman hurried in. She was wearing soiled jeans and a dusty blouse and was fighting a losing battle to tuck stray sprigs of hair back under a band around her head.
"I'm sorry, hon. We're remodeling and I didn't see you come in."
"That's okay. Do you have rooms available?"
"Well, we have two that were just finished today. King size bed or two double beds?"
"King size sounds good. Can I see it?"
"Sure, honey. Let me get the key."
She bent to the counter and pulled out a key. "It's number 107. Go down the walk about half way. You can't miss it."
"Okay."
It turned out to be a little small but it had the smell of fresh paint and new carpet and it was clean. The bed looked sturdy and comfortable so I went back to the office to sign in.
As I turned to go back to my car, the lady said, "We haven't had a chance to put up fresh towels yet. I'll be down in a few minutes with new ones, okay?"
I nodded my agreement and climbed into my car. In just a few minutes, I had my car parked in front of unit 107, my bag inside, and my shoes off. I was officially retired for the evening.