Page 20 of Resonance
“Or a cousin or something. The one you dread coming to Thanksgiving because they smell like pee and are always red-faced and snotty from crying over something.”
“What kind of Thanksgivings were you having as a kid?”
“I had a cousin just like that. God, he sucked. And he grew up to be such a dick, too.”
I pulled off on the exit, chuckling. “I swear you have a story for everything.”
The Motel8 wasn’t a shithole, but it wasn’t a Marriot, either. Hell, it wasn’t even a Motel 6. I’d planned on getting Owen his own room, but all the other travelers going our way had the same idea we’d had. The motel was packed, and I’d been lucky to get one of the last rooms they had. The second counter clerk was turning someone away as I pocketed the key and ambled back toward the front entrance. That there was only a king bed was something I was gonna have to figure out. I reckoned I could sleep on the floor. Or better yet, Owen could.
As I exited the lobby, Owen came around the side of the building, cheeks glowing with the chill in the air and a big grin on his face. The ends of his hair were damp with snowflakes that crystallized and gleamed on his shirt. “They’ve got a little restaurant bar thing, too, and they’re doing karaoke tonight. We should totally go.”
“No.”
His smile pitched higher, damn him. “You’re looking at me like I just told you I’m into cannibalism. We have to eat at some point, and what’s wrong with karaoke?”
“Karaoke is a wart on the asshole of humanity.” It inevitably made me think of smoke-filled rooms that smelled like Jäger, and ear-gouging, heart-filled renditions of “Purple Rain” by people who thoughtlouderwas equivalent tobetter.
Owen blinked rapidly at me.
I added, “If you’re into cannibalism, how about you help yourself to that guy over there?” I pointed out a man in a puffy nylon jacket lugging his suitcase through one of the doors. “And then take his room key, because they only had one left for you and me after he went.”
“I’m not going to cannibalize that guy becausehewas the one who pointed out the restaurant. So you’ll just have to suffer through me for an entire night.” He trotted happily alongside me as I headed back to the truck. “Also, I’m disappointed in you. Not only is it clear you’ve never been to decent karaoke, but also that you don’t even understand what karaoke is all about.”
“School me, then,” I said as we both climbed into the cab of the truck. I trawled the parking lot only to find the space in front of our door already filled, then reversed and headed toward another spot on the far side of the building.
“Well, for one, this karaoke isn’t gonna suck because it has me and you.”
“Oh nooo. No, no, no.” I had about as much desire to karaoke as I had to saw off my own hand.
“And two,” Owen continued, unswayed by my initial protest, “karaoke is about camaraderie. And drinking. Mostly drinking.”
“I’m not doing karaoke.”
“Then you can just sit there and look surly while I do, you old foot.”
Old foot. He almost got me that time; I bit back a laugh as I turned the truck off and kicked open the door.
And that was how I ended up in the bar of Motel 8’s karaoke night drinking whiskey.
Aural Addiction, Episode #13 transcript:
Owen:Oh my god, you actually remembered. This is so cool! [pause] Hold on. You put… “Rhinestone Cowboy” on a mixtape. Did you actuallymakethis for someone and give them a copy?
Dan:I did.
Owen:[laughing] Did you hate them?
Dan:“Rhinestone Cowboy” is a classic example of—why are you looking at me like that?
Owen:There’s no way you’re 41. Did you take some immortality serum? Did you sell your soul to the devil in 1975? Do you remember inDeath Becomes Herwhen Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn—
Dan:Sometimes I think you forget who signs your paychecks.
Owen:Maybe next time you should sign it with “Rhinestone Cowboy.” Then I won’t forget.
Dan:How about if I sign it on your pink slip.
Owen:Will this pink slip have rhinestones on it, as well?