Gaspar, El Lugareño: Going to a Motel (por Manny López)

Monday, July 22, 2013

Going to a Motel (por Manny López)

I had wanted to go to a motel, and experience that feeling of forbidden and secretive sex for awhile. The thought had run over and over in my mind for the last few months, but I would always chicken out at the last minute. It was like a movie, not exactly porn, more like a David Lynch film, minus all the suspense.

I envisioned going with a different partner every week, but the real fantasy was to do it with a black man. It wasn’t a matter of size or anything of that nature, but a craving, only I wasn’t pregnant.

Slowly, it became kind of an obsession. I would be at work in the middle of the day, and suddenly I would transport myself to a motel with a man I had never met. It was a constant daydreaming, and I felt the need to resolve this as soon as possible. If you have a headache, take some Tylenol, and I went for it. Although I was determined to follow through, I made no immediate plans. However, I felt the day or night coming closer and closer.

One night, not too long ago, I had plans to go to the theatre and then to a dinner party, not thinking for a minute about my constant craving. The night ended beautifully, or so I thought. As I sat in my car, and began driving home, I had a dramatic experience, a volcano-like sensation crept over me and without thinking about it, I called this man I hadn’t seen for a while and invited him to a motel. He liked the idea, and I drove by and picked him up. I wanted to be in control, since this was my fantasy. I wanted to make all decisions, from choosing the motel, to how many hours we were going to spend there…and I did!

He was in a state of shock about my proposition, but it was quite visible that he enjoyed the idea. I drove up to this brand new motel by the airport, and did not realize this was a Saturday night and people like me were busy carrying out their fantasies as well. The place was full. There was a sudden feeling of disappointment, and I almost said to my accomplice that I was taking him back home. I drove a couple of blocks and came upon this huge property where the VACANCY sign was flashing at 100 miles per hour. I parked, and told him to wait in the car.

As I made my way to the reception area, I noticed that; the front desk manager was behind a glass, as if this was a high risk-security jail or Tiffany’s. There was a line of about five people and a few minutes later, more joined us behind me. I was a little restless, but restrained myself more than once from walking out.

The man behind the glass offered all kinds of packages for a few hours of pleasure. If you wanted a room with a Jacuzzi, the bubbles were not included. The regular rooms were all sold out, and the minimum was four hours, and if you returned the key, you got $5 back. I was confused by the time it was my turn at the window. I really wanted to run away. I did not like the atmosphere of this pleasure emporium, and I was also a bit disgusted, to be honest. Like a caged, trained animal, I proceeded to pay and take my Jacuzzi room for the same price as the regular room, with no bubbles, for four hours of excitement. As I sat in the car, and looked over, my buddy was in a relaxed state, as if nothing mattered. I drove to the back of themotel to find our room. As we walked to our room, I felt my face turn red with embarrassment. Here I was at about 2am in a motel with this tall, black man, and as I looked around I felt that everyone in the parking lot knew what we were heading for.

Once inside the room, I had to contain myself from not laughing hysterically, since the decor and everything about the place was in such bad taste. We turned on all the lights, and laughed at the same time. Honestly, all my desires of having sex were finished…over with… Little by little we took our clothes off, and simply sat on the edge of the bed, on top of the covers. I don’t remember what triggered our conversation, but sex was not it, and we found ourselves discussing current events, and the lack of humanity in the world.

Occasionally we would kiss, and pat each other here and there, but nothing more. We were too engrossed in our chat to notice that time was running out, and had not even tried the bubble-free Jacuzzi. As slowly as the beginning, we put our clothes back on. I threw the key in the bed, and said forget the $5 refund. We walked out of the room, and headed for the car, sleepy and tired.

I dropped off my accomplice, and headed as fast as I could to the safe vault that my bedroom has become. There goes my fantasy of a tall, black man in a bubble-free Jacuzzi, at a local motel.

From the book Room at the Top (Eriginal Books)

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