Hotel Hot Tubbychilleywilley©
I had listened to that conversation five times. I wondered why she wanted the date e-mailed to her. I mean, who would forget a scheduled adulterous fuck? Life's full of puzzles, isn't it, and the biggest was why Howard?
The motel they were going to was about a ten minute drive from my office. Earlier in the week I had deliberately scheduled a meeting for 3:00 PM on Thursday. Figured I could duck out and wanted the time set in people's minds.
At 2:30, I announced I needed to run a quick errand, and sipped over to the motel. Of course her car wasn't in the parking lot, only one nice looking Accord. I had an L shaped strip of thin metal to jimmy the door if necessary, but it wasn't needed.
The damn thing was still ajar. I trotted up the stairs, listened briefly at the door, heard my wife's murmuring voice, and geezer Howard's deeper response. I slipped into the utility room, and pulled the phone line for 211, and dabbed the female socket and the copper wire with clear nail polish.
Back out to the hall while the lacquer dried, I pumped an adhesive caulk into the crack between the door and the metal casing, including the threshold. Didn't want them to easily slide a note under the door into the hall. Using paper towels, I carefully wiped the clear sealer off so it wasn't noticeable to a casual eye. I gave the lock a shot of sealer, pumping it into the keyhole, jamming the lock.
A Do Not Disturb sign I found in the closet went on the door knob, and I taped a paper to the door saying
"WORKING SHIFT WORK. DO NOT MAKE UP ROOM UNTIL SATURDAY MORNING."
I don't imagine the maids would mind not having to do the room. Back into the utility room, I set the illegal cell phone blocker I had purchased on the internet, and plugged the charger for it into the wall socket behind a roll away bed. I picked up the Atomic Roach box, cut the bottom out, and stuffed the cell phone blocker inside, setting the thing back on the floor in its own little pile of dust.
I sniffed at the telephone electrical panel to confirm the lacquer had dried, and inserted the phone wires into the socket, and gently tightened the screw. I confirmed the lacquer was insulating the wire with a pocket volt ohm meter. Good. No continuity, no phone.
I tried calling my office on my cell, and the call wouldn't go through. Over to the electrical panel, I found the breaker for room 211, and tripped it. Three minutes and 45 seconds start to finish. Those bastards couldn't call out, the ravine was too deep to jump into or even lower oneself down on sheets, and the maids wouldn't be back until Saturday.
I would have her parents over for dinner, no daughter, panic, calls to the police and the hospitals! Tomorrow they'd find her car, still no clue. Saturday morning, or whenever, she comes home...how the hell does she explain her absence? I'll throw her ass out! The only potential problem was if geezer Howard needed some medicine or some such. Oh well, collateral damage!
I was back in the office 22 minutes after I had left. Mary, our office manager, commented that it didn't take long. The meeting lasted until 3:30. When I got out. Mary told me my wife had called to remind me to pick up some decent red wine for dinner. Dam it all to hell; the cell phone blocker didn't work? I chewed on that for a while. I thought we both had the same digital phone design, so if mine didn't work, hers shouldn't have either. Maybe she used Howard's phone? At 4:30, on my way home I called her office asking what kind of wine to get. She was cheery and happy to talk to me. What the Fuck!
She musta got a quickie, and somehow slipped out before the sealer was dry. Maybe the adhesive didn't set right. Surely they would have realized that someone had glued the god damn door shut, and wondered who done it!
That night, we had a lovely dinner, she was at the top of her form, witty, charming, loving, and when her parents left, we had a good tumble. We lay in bed, back to back with asses touching. I was almost afraid to shut my eyes lest she be seething with rage inside, seeking revenge. She deserved an Oscar for her acting that evening.
The next morning, I was up early for work, left a fresh pot of coffee for her. I forgot to take my cup and left it on the counter. At work I was too busy to think of much else, and like so many days before, the hours flew past. She was a little quiet at supper she had cooked, and after I did the dishes, poured myself a glass of wine, and a cranberry juice and seltzer for her pregnant self, sat down with her for our customary chat on the day's events. It would not be overstating things to say I could barely contain myself.
She opened the chat with foreboding intensity:
"Have I got a tale for you! Do you remember me mentioning a young salesman, Howard Cohen? No? I'm not surprised, I probably only mentioned him once if at all. Well he and Amy Libowitz, my sectary, are in love. But both of them still live with their parents, and...Well it's hard to find a comfortable place to screw! So I was telling Howard about that motel out on route 9, the dumpy one?
Ohhhh shit! I thought to myself. I could go to jail for this. God save me if that dump had surveillance cameras! Mr. Scott put up the deflector shields! Lie! Lie! Lie! I affected an insulted husband and my mind scrambled to crafted a plausible denial.
"Margie, you, or someone said it was cheap, had a room with a hot tub in it, and was really seedy, you know? Well I told Howard, and he asked if I would give Amy time off some afternoon to surprise her Let 'em have a bit of dirty? Sure, I'm in love with you, we do that once in a while; they're in love, why not? Amy was so cute! Embarrassed as hell asking my permission to take the afternoon off! Not knowing I knew what she was going to do! I teased and wheedled out of her the reason for the afternoon off, and had even more fun offering advice!"
She was wound up and glowering at me.
"Today I go into work. I'm looking forward to kidding them a bit just to see them blush, but neither of them is there. No shows! Now you can't set your watch by their arrival because they're usually in early! I'm wondering where they are? Mary called them on their cell phones...went to voice mail. Called their parents. The parents are frantic! Total wrecks! They had called the police, but they wouldn't do anything for 24 hours. They didn't come home last night! I'm afraid, thinking they were raped and murdered in the room at the fucking motel that I myself recommended, when I had never been there!"
"So I grab Alfrado Fernandez, he's a big beefy guy, he probably can't fight any better than me, but so what! I wasn't going there alone. We go to the motel, and get the dweeb at the desk to go open the door. Do you know what we found? I think you might! The two of them were hysterical, and the fucking door was glued shut. We had to get the fire department to smash it down. They ended up cutting a hole in it! The phone in the room didn't work, had a bad connection or something, and they still don't know why their cell phones, or anyone else's for that matter, don't work in that part of the building. Some kind of dead zone."
"The maids saw a do not disturb sign out and the hand written sign about not cleaning the room. If we hadn't come by god knows how long they would have been there. Amy was up half the night crying, Howard maintained a stiff upper lip, but it was horrible! Horrible!
"Now somebody did this wretched thing to them. It didn't just happen. Neither of them have any enemies around here. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought I smelled...you! Why did you do this?"
Ahhh! No problem here, good story but no logic without the missing pieces which she doesn't have. With the intensity of a righteous spouse I came back at her:
"Gimmy a break. Now first of all, I was at that motel last week. I was thinking about you and me having a dirty night out. You mentioned the place to me a while ago. It sounded like fun, but the place was too dirty even for my tastes. But that's the only connection to me. So far as I know, I've never met or seen either of the love birds in my life. Further I would have had to know well in advance they would be at that particular motel, in that particular motel room, and at that particular time.
"Now how would I know all that? And if somehow I did know all that, why in hell would I care? Unmarried people fucking doesn't bother me at all. Done it myself! Why you might as well complain about birds shitting on the grass! I've done it there myself! Fornicating on the grass I mean...not shitting...with nary a shred of guilt.
"Remember when your buddy Karen was running around on her husband, even her adultery wasn't a problem with me, was it? Remember when Eric and Tina wanted to swing with us; you remember...I said no, not good for me. But we still see them socially, and I don't have a problem with that, do I!"
So where do you get off accusing me? Really!"
"Your right, you're right. It was such a diabolical, imaginative, well thought out plan; something you might have thought up, but of course that doesn't mean anything. You're right, there's no reason think you had anything to do with it. I'm sorry, it was such a fun thing, and ended so badly for them.
"I just feel so bad for them. Think of it! The kids are excited as hell. They were expecting to have a great time. Fuck themselves silly, soak in the tub, fuck some more until it hurts, soak some more. Finely get dressed to go out to dinner, and the hot tub doesn't work, the door won't open! The telephone doesn't work, no TV, no lights, no cell phone reception! The window doesn't open, and besides it's too far down to get out through the window anyway. They pound on the walls and the floor. Holler until they are hoarse, and...nothing. They're stuck there, imprisoned. The power is out, no lights, no TV, no ventilation. Miserable, sore pussy, empty stomach, stuck looking at each other hour after hour. Amy is furious at Howard for getting her into this mess, and vowed never to see him again.
"Some sick fuck set this elaborate trap. Not you, I know it wasn't you, but some bastard did it to them!"
"Funny how she blames Howard for something that clearly isn't his fault at all. Do you suppose this is a feminine tendency? This sort of thing seems to be very common these days, don't you think?"
"Chris, you're right. I apologize again! Should never have accused you, I had no reason to. Had to be one of their 'friends'. Oh well, I'll talk to her and straighten her out. Well I feel guilty, I hope you're not too tired tonight hmmmh?"
That was it. After such a monumental screw up on my part, I figured we were even. I decided she was innocent until her guilt fell in my lap, and I never put a recording device in her car again. As far as I know, she and I have been true to each other for ten years now, and have three children. No I didn't do a DNA test. I don't need to. Marrying her was the best thing I ever did.
And if anyone disagrees with me, tough shit! It's my life and my wife.