Well my lodging choices for Eureka were not up to par. The
Historic Eureka Inn was overpriced for what it was.
Okay it was clean. I could not even find any splotches with
my new scorpion spotting ultraviolet light. The bed was nice, the towels good,
but I picked this place because of the photos of their great restaurant and
bar. Both of which were closed and have been for some time. Maybe because of
covid, maybe not. I never asked. The pool was shuttered. The halls smelled
musty, and The continental breakfast consisted of a sugar donut in a bag, and
fecal coffee. Just not worth the price at all.
The other thing aboot this hotel is its creepy. The lobby is
set with elegant Victorian furniture, a piano, a fireplace, and more paintings
of dead people on the walls, than people staying the night, that I estimate at
5 or 7 guests, but I only saw 2.
It was fun roaming the deserted halls and flipping off ron and nancy. Giving Winston Churchill a nod, and a big salute for Robert Kennedy. Walt Disney and Carri Fisher, I just ignored.
Movie producers if you are looking for a set for your next zombie
movie or haunted hotel the Eureka Inn is your go to place, and next time I roll
through Eureka I am going back to the Best Wester or Hilton
Inn.
My old chaps that were just plain worn out, and not really serviceable
with the snaps all broken and flapping in the wind. They got left in Ohms garage, and replacing them
would mean a stop at a motor company outpost.
The motor company outpost in Eureka has always treated me fair,
and no one that has ever helped me seemed like a republican supporter, but I
was really surprised when I opened the door and took a step in and none of the
4 employees I saw was wearing a mask. When I asked if the pandemic was over the
motor cloths fellows put their masks on, but the big gnarly guys in parts just
didn’t think a statewide mask mandate, or covid, or strokes or heart attacks,
were anything they need to worry aboot …And well maybe its better if these
fools don’t wear masks, as it makes it really easy to see who the regressive stupid
asses are.
Well with everyone’s breath contained I found a lightweight pair of chaps that were reasonably priced, and that is something unheard of in motor clothes.
All geared up now, an heading north out of town to the 299 cutoff,
and into the heart of Big Foot country.
I find a Big Foot Motel, and one old statue
On the radio I hear Big Foot selling beer, pot, plumbing, soil services, pest control, and even porta potties. At least he isn’t selling Medicare. That’s Joe Namath’s area.
Big Foot has gone into advertising, and he must be making a
mint. Probably a better gig than hiding behind trees.
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