So my alternator goes out while passing through Memphis and I manage to limp the car to an AutoZone…read moreon Elvis Presley Blvd. Ever been to EP Blvd? It's ghetto. Super ghetto. So much so that after having traveled all over the country, I've slept in my car numerous times, but this time I figured it was best to get a motel room. Just two doors down from the parts store was The Wayside Inn, so, sucking up what little battery power was left in the vehical, I drive on over (not wanting to leave my car out of sight) and figured I'd check it out.
Pretty much every motel on the strip there looks like crackhead headquarters and the outside of this place was no different. Run down, beat up, in need of a paint job or a good ol' bulldozing/rebuilding from scratch, it didn't give the outward appearance of "cozy" as much as it did of "run for your life!", but I decided to suck it up and give it a go as my options were not exactly plentiful.
When speaking to the proprietor, who was sitting on a couch behind bullet proof glass, casually dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, I reserved a room through a small slot in between the glass and counter, I figure this was just a sign of the times for the area. When receiving my room key and remote control via a bank teller style drive up drawer, I figured I should rethink my position on not owning a handgun for when I entered my room.
After driving around to the back, unlocking the door slowly, and then surprise-attack kicking it open like a cop doing a drug house raid, I hit the lights turned in every direction and scanned the scene looking for cockroaches or meth fiends diving out of the blinding florescent lights and under the bed, but surprisingly, the only things to find were nothing but a tiny quiet, clean room.
The bedding was devoid of blood stains, the mirrors appeared to be regular mirrors and not two way glass, set up to watch junkies have sex in a secret record-and-sell operation, and the bathtub and toilets did not have traces of bodily fluids to be found, though its not like I had a black light with me.
While its not a palace and the neighborhood is less than perfect, The Wayside Inn offered a maintained place to stay along with a security guard who would do a once over in the parking lot (he even stopped me while under the hood of my car at 11 at night, like a good security guard should) and it was completely affordable at 35 dollars.
Whether the rooms have housed couples conducting secret love affairs, lonely businessmen committing suicide, or junkies getting a fix, I'll never know because the place cleaned up well.
I would rather not stay in the neighborhood again, but if I had to for any reason, I'll hit up the Wayside Inn.
