The Road Warrior Chronicles Ch. 01

Funny experiences after 40 years of living on the road

Hey everybody, Bill Millwood here. I'm just sitting here in my rocker today thinking about my life on the roads of Texas after retiring from 40 years of outside selling. Going from town to town, always moving, countless motel rooms, bars and roads that not even an armadillo had crossed in years.

I have met and worked with countless folks, many were forgettable or regrettable, but the one's that weren't made for countless memories, mostly humorous.

My chapters are going to showcase one person primarily so as not to wander all over the place and be confusing. Time frame for these chapters is late 70's thru the 80's. It will revolve mostly around three men I worked with; George, Larry and Carl, or my personal reference to them, The Three Stooges. All womanizers while married with children, they led a strange but privileged life during those years. Chapter One intro is George.

I worked with a fellow named George in the north Texas area for about 15 years. He was already in place when I came aboard so I guess you could call him one of my mentors. Now George was the typical salesman of the day; loud, gruff and in your face. He also had a no confidence streak that caused him to fall into a number of predicaments, usually bad for him and you.

George was a portly man, nowhere near a stud, stallion or any of those descriptions. He had a comb over hairdo and smoked and drank a lot. He was married with children, his wife an attractive housewife, rather oblivious to his shenanigans when out of town. He had bulging eyes, like the old comic Marty Feldman from Monty Python days, but he did have the lines for the ladies. Well, let's call them ladies for now. Remember the no confidence? George would find ugly first and then move up; his success ratio for scoring was directly parallel to who he went after. One of his particular statements when entering a club or bar was "Let me cut one from the herd", referring to a woman in a group. I'll give you a few examples of his scores.

I met up with him once in Waco. Now this town back then was a bible thumping community and it was near impossible to find a bar, let alone one that had trolling women in it. We stayed at one motel but visited another that had an attached bar, the Ramada Inn. George was not a man who ate first before drinking, that was reserved for the 2am meal at Denny's. So he usually started with black russians and then switched to white. Well at this bar, an older woman, dressed a little wild for her age, enters and takes a seat near us. The lighting in this place is poor, so other than seeing this lady was old, it was too difficult to determine more. The conversation, started by George was getting more risqué as the evening went on, and this older woman was just as wild in her comments. Challenges were tossed out and she blatantly said she would get a room and take us both on; this was enough for me, I excused myself and went back to my motel and got a burger to go. I would see George in the morning, hopefully in one piece.

Both George and I were early risers, so it was no surprise when I saw George enter the café at 6am and walk up to my table. He looked a little disheveled; it appeared he got little sleep last night. I asked straight out how last night went.

"Partner, she was a crazy old loon"

"George, that's how you like them right?"

"Well, she did get a room. It was the honeymoon suite; it had glass walls and a glass ceiling to"

Picturing George's flabby ass reflecting in the ceiling was making the egg I just swallowed wanting to come back up.

"Well, what could be wrong with that?" I inquired.

"Partner, she got naked and spread eagled on the bed and told me to eat her. She was bare and I said to her, darlin you shave, she said no, I'm just old. I could not get it up after that. Then when she said she just turned 80, I locked myself in the bathroom for 30 minutes, telling her I was sick, which I was"

With that my pancakes were coming back up thru my nostrils and the laughter wouldn't stop.

Another time with George was in the town of Longview where they had a honky tonk called Rio Palm Isle. This was during the hay day of Urban Cowboy so it was a gold mine of activity. On a weekend night this place would bring buses over from Louisiana of partiers, mostly middle aged women (or older). This was a regular hangout for George so it was understood that we would be trolling there.

Now this was also the time that Detroit was trying to be efficient, so vehicles were being converted to diesel from gas. George bought one of these, an Oldsmobile that he loved and only he drove. Again this was not a true diesel, simply a revised gas engine that ran louder than shit and needed a running start to get on a freeway.

So after our business calls we head over to the Rio in this Oldsmobile. It's starting to snow a little, just enough to keep a thin sheen on everything.

This club is big; a huge dance floor in the middle of the room with wooden picnic seating around for the folks to better mingle and also to accommodate larger parties. In this place the women were the aggressors, if you within range of the dance floor it was nothing for a gal to come out of nowhere, grab you and haul you on the floor. That was my first experience. George was a regular here, but he did not mention this to me; so I just got my Lone Star beer, took my first swallow and was swooshed up by the predecessor of Marge Simpson, a tall spiral hairdo (referred as the rodeo hairdo), a woman 25 years my senior. She reeked of perfume that must have come from a swamp and as she spun me around so my face would make contact with that hair. It was so sprayed; I believe a brick wall would have been softer making contact. The dance then went to a slow hug number in which she latched on to my ass cheeks instead of my shoulder. I looked across the room to a grinning George at a table with another half dozen rodeo gals.

Happily returning to the table after the dance, George introduced me to the women at the table, all far older than me or him and none that couldn't have used a hair remover on their face. It seems one just got a divorce finalized that day and the girls were "celebrating" her freedom. All this was right up George's ally and he could really schmooze this crowd.

These ladies were happy; I think they may have been partying well before we came in. I downed my beer quickly and left to get another just so I could leave the table. I stayed away as long as I could but as soon as I got back, these old bitties wanted to dance some more and zeroed in on me. George locked up with the recent divorcee, a small thin woman with reddish undone hair, a rather large curved nose way to big for her face and the thinnest of lips, more like a line. There was one or two in this crowd that had more going for her than Connie, George's new friend. He told me in the rest room that she was being stubborn about being with him tonight and he viewed that as a challenge to his skills of persuasion, I thought him to be nuts.

I drank a lot so I could leave the table a lot. As the night wore on it became apparent that George would have his way with Connie. He came up to me and grinning gave me his car keys and stated, "I'll get a ride from her, take my car back".

This was music to my ears. Really; it would help me escape this group of women. So watching George head out with his date, I went to the bar for another beer, giving them enough time to get back to our motel. I nursed that beer for at least 30 minutes, plenty of time to go the ½ mile to the room. I debated whether to pee again but figured it was such a short drive, why bother.

The Oldsmobile started ok, but you had to let it heat up for some time to let the oil disperse through the engine. The snow had stopped, but it was cold and having just left the parking lot, I had to pee. I rolled into the motel lot and was happy to see a space in front of my room; George's was right next to mine. Shutting the engine off and really having to pee now, I was on the verge of getting out when I spotted George and Connie coming up the walk toward his room, slowly arm in arm. Rather than bump into them at the door I decided to wait till they went in, but my bladder was working overtime. I thought where the hell have they been to be so slow in getting back.

Finally they reached their door and George was fumbling with the keys, dropping then not once but three times, each time Connie bent down to retrieve them. By this time water was bubbling up my eyeballs and thoughts of pissing in George's love car was a real probability.

On the third drop of the room key, Connie stayed down and unzipped George's trousers and withdrew his dick and started to lick it. I went oh no, not that, not now, I was about to flood the gates. Thoughts of losing my career as well as replacing seats in a new car flashed before me.

Thankfully George was not completely drunk, because he started to lift Connie and said they were outside and someone could see them. They finally got the door open and before their door closed I was out of the car, hauling ass to my room. While running I was unzipping and finally made it into the bathroom, only to find the seat down. Beyond bursting, I shifted my body and went in the tub.

Finally getting to relax, I cleaned up; got undressed for bed and tried to make myself comfortable. Resting my head and back against the headboard, the thump started. I then remembered that the beds in adjoining rooms butted up to each other, so my headboard was against the same wall as George's. Being an old room, you could not move the bed away from the wall, it was attached. As the thumping increased, I got out of bed and tried to sleep in the chair and ottoman. Then the wailing started; Connie was a noise machine, and it got louder as the banging pace increased. Cotton balls in the ears were next. George had drinker's dick, he went most of the night without cumming, so they fucked all night. No sleep that night, which was ok in a way, since I had to piss every couple hours anyway.

Another time with good old George was when we were running a promo campaign. The company had procured a 40 ft motor home, outfitted with displays, samples and literature. This motor home had a specified driver the first year it was out, making the rounds of the country into each territory. For the second year, the driver was reassigned and the van went from each territory to the next; each salesman had 2 weeks to promo as he wanted. Now some people were lazy and just parked the thing till they hooked up with the next guy. Others would use it extensively; still others got it when it needed service. Unfortunately for me, being the new guy, none of the people in my area wanted to drive it and specified that I drive to their areas and work with them. This left me in that bloody thing for 6 weeks straight.

When it was George's turn, I drove up and met him in Tyler. I arrived after him and when I got that rig parked and locked up for the night, I checked into our motel. Lo and behold there is a note from George to meet him at this restaurant at 8pm. He evidently drove to another town to pick up his "dolly" or girlfriend of the week to join us for dinner. This was not an event that interested me; the motor home was tough to drive and you made presentations all day long, so I was beat.

I get to the restaurant and waited for George. Arriving about 30 minutes late, here comes George with a filly on his arm. Now this gal, introduced as Carol has a huge rack on her, highlighted by a low cut dress that reveals about a foot of cleavage. This dominates the view, but when you gaze upon her, she is pock marked with a bad wig on, ugly nose and worst of all missing teeth. Not one or two, but 4 noticeable ones. Both she and George smoked during dinner and those missing teeth proved funny, for when she exhaled, odd looking clouds of smoke came out and went into different directions.

It was an odd dinner, as much as George was ogling her and playing with her arm and shoulders as well as under the table, she kept looking and grinning at me. When she spoke, she placed or tried to at least put her hand over mine. When she got into her story I knew I had to get out.

She worked in a 7-11 store in another town, been married 4 times and had 6 kids with 5 different guys. My head spun around with this overload of information. Under the table she tried to play footsie with me, with George sitting next to her. I definitely had no interest in this older woman and wanted to get out ASAP.

After dinner, George and Carol wanted to go dancing; I politely declined even with the persistent nagging of Carol. When she went to the powder room, George told me that she liked me and wanted to include me tonight in their "activities" The thought of flabby ass George and this big titted hag having sex with ME, made me want to lose dinner.

I fended them off finally based on me being very tired from the drive and I would still have to prepare a few presentations for tomorrow. Thankfully I was in bed by 11, and dozed off quickly.

I was startled by my door being pounded on and it was pitch black inside and out. Groggy, I went to the door and asked who it was.

"Hey partner, it's me George"

Looking at my watch it was 3am.

"What do you want? Do you know what time it is?"

"I need the keys to the van"

"Why?"

"I need to see something in there"

Now I was dressed only in my underwear bottoms, being a June day and all. Reluctantly I opened the door to find George standing there grinning and an also grinning Carol behind him. Immediately her gaze went to my shorts and crotch and I felt sick. I flicked him the keys and told him to be sure and lock up and I would see him in the morning.

It was about 7am the next day when I hooked up with George for the keys, late for us. He was still dressing and had just showered, so I checked out and started to load the motor home. Opening the door, I first had a wave of smells hit me of body odor, stale smoke and liquor. Next was the sight of the interior. Shelves were knocked over, literature was strewed over the floor, the presentation table had stains of what I found out later was dried cum and pussy juice. We had a presentation to give in slightly more than an hour, to clean this shithole and drive to our destination was going to be tight.

Getting towels from my room, fortunately I still had the keys; I scrubbed what I could and picked up all the loose stuff. George finally showed up and instead of pitching in, just stood around grinning. He started to describe the fucking from last night, I told him to help or shut up. We finally hit the road.

I was appalled at the conclusion of our first customer visit. As he was leaving I handed him a brochure, which he held up to read, on the back was some dried cum stains. I could have died. The thought that this guy would take this brochure back to his business to have other employee's look at was revolting. On top of that my name and number was stamped on the back.

Of course George had no problem with any of this. In discussing his antics, he would just give me that deer in the headlights look and responded, "What's wrong?" I could only think of that old line, "For those that know, no explanation is needed, for those that don't, none is possible"

Another time we were in the Dallas area, attending a convention. This was a selling and buying convention, except that most of the selling took place in the bar or clubs after hours from the market. This was perfect for George; we left him in the bar while we manned our booth which made everyone happy. Now we had a sister company that shared our booth, so we included the representative in our evenings. He was a little older than me, a fellow named Jim, who was also married but chased skirts. He however took the tack that it better be worth the hassle, so he opted to find the best girl in the place and work down, to a limit of course.

So after the convention shut for the day, we went into the hotel's lounge, which was geared toward country and western. Jim and I went together, and he immediately found two mature, well endowed, well heeled attractive ladies. After they let us join them we spotted George hoping he would not join us, which of course he did. These ladies were out of his league and it became apparent very quickly; they did not laugh at his crude jokes and they did not care to dance with him. It took an effort on all four of our parts to make him aware he was the odd guy out in this group. I don't know if he got the message, but he went off after a bit to mow greener fields.

Occasionally glancing around the club I would spot George going from this group to that group. There were quite a few conventioneers in the place, so he was active. Meanwhile Jim and I continued with the ladies, sharing drinks and the occasional slow dance. The lady I was with, while probably old enough to me my mother, was very sweet and warm. She had a great body, and while we slow danced we would let our hands drift and rub each others butts. I thought tonight should be a good night. Every once in a while, George would stop by and interject some crap; we would all stop interacting with him, mostly to no avail. He would finally get agitated when neither lady would dance with him and move on again.

Shortly thereafter he began calling me from across the room, waving at me to come over. I tried to ignore him, but he kept it up; finally Jim had enough and told me to see what he wanted. George was talking to a seated lady at the edge of the dance floor and said, "Hey partner, this is one of your people, she can talk like you"

What that implied is that my family was of Swedish heritage and I would occasionally speak in Swedish.

So to be sociable, I chatted a little in her native tongue only to look over and see George now with my lady friend in my old seat. Feeling set up, I began to excuse myself to go back over, when the current lady grabbed my arm and said that George promised I would dance with her. Pissed, but trying to be a gentleman, I went out onto the floor. Behind me I heard a thump, followed by another and another.

Glancing down, I saw a wooden leg on my partner. I'm a crappy dancer to begin with, how in tarnation was I going to dance with a woman with a heavy wooden leg? I spotted George grinning and laughing his ass off, at my table. Mad would be the mildest thing currently coursing thru my veins.

I did get through the dance with my feet intact and couldn't wait to return my partner to her seat. She grabbed me from going, saying that George had told her earlier that I found her attractive and she wanted to go to my room to show her gratitude. Now she was a nice lady and all, but the other one at my table was who I was hoping to be with. I got more steamed when I saw George drag my girl to the floor for a dance, a super slow one.

With Jim's help we finally got rid of George, who ended up with a bunch of guys from the convention whose primary activity tonight was to get drunk. Jim and I plotted our escape with these ladies, either to another club or back to our hotel. In the course of our discussion we discovered that neither we nor the ladies had eaten anything substantive tonight and we should head out to get a bite. Since it was quite late, our options were limited. When breakfast was suggested, we decided on a Denny's close by.

Slipping out of the club, I looked back one more time for George and did not see him. When we got to the parking lot it was decided that Jim would take his car, with one lady and I would follow in the other ladies car. We had just been seated and ordered at Denny's when I looked up and there stood George. Without a word, he plopped himself down at our table and called the waitress over.