The Bed Bug Blues

I've a feeling we're not in a Courtyard Marriott anymore.

1:15 AM Wednesday July 13, Downtown Memphis Motel 6

It can’t be that bad? Right? Right? I say to myself as I begin the trek to room 116, through the Motel 6 parking lot loiterers I must pass to get there.

“We clean the rooms” man behind the desk said, M t l 6 glowing high behind the check-in window. 

 “There won’t be bed bugs,” he said 

“It’s safe,” he said 

and now I say to myself.

“As if he would respond any other way to my pointed inquisitions,” I also mutter to myself. 

I watch the eyes in cars and next to cars watch me low-key shaking, trudge my bags to my room.  I fumble with my bags and curse myself for fumbling with my bags.

Head up! You’re almost there.

I arrive in my non-smoking room and quickly lock the doors and close the curtains, ending I pray, the parking lot gazes that may or may not have ever actually been focused on me. A waft of stale cigarette smoke greets me. I take in the air’s fleshy notes of mid-day arm pit and latex trash bags, finished with a subtle punch of sweat. I attempt a deep breath that quickly empties, realizing my 5-7-9 breathing won’t calm me here. 

1:45 AM- I gotta get out.

But without another place to go, but the reality that I would have to voyage back through the parking to exit, but feeling at the precipice of a full freeze state, I do what I can to calm down and to invite shut eye.

I crank the AC as low and as loud as it goes: I need its noise to block the incessant buzzing flies and intermittent sirens; the blasting air cools my body’s heat from stress and the 3 layers I drape myself in to protect against a stray black hair I pretended not to see and bed bugs.  I pray the muddied holes in the sheets from bed bugs are vestiges and not evidence of life. 

I lay down as far from the window as possible and build a barricade of pillows around me.  I see a shadow. I pray it’s only a shadow.  I have flashbacks of my childhood self feeling the same way I do now— in the comfort of my own bed I still freeze tighter in terror with each creak from the furnace.  

Safety is a construct. Anxiety exists in your mind.

But what I doooooo to be in that childhood bed that now only connotes comfort, in my purple room, gripping my checkered blanky and build-a-bear bunny, counting my glow in the dark stars.

God please. Please keep me safe and use this moment. Make this moment matter God and teach me something. I will be better God.

I send a few texts so that friends know where to start looking for my body tomorrow.  

“Hey! don’t be alarmed, I’ll probably be fine. Being dramatic here. But just in case I’m not, I wanted someone to know I’m at the Memphis Midtown Motel 6. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow morning then that’s why!”

I know you are wondering..why were you alone, at a Motel 6, at 2 AM, on a Wednesday, in Memphis?

I came to the great city of Memphis, Tennessee for an eat, pray, love style rendezvous of bbq, blues, and Elvis. And also for an ATL gals wkend, a part of hometown tours that started pre-covid when we all lived in Atlanta, with 12 of us taking over my friend Liz Pruitt’s childhood home and the Billy Bob’s dance floor in Fort Worth, Texas.  This trip was the last time I ever went to “bed” with my clothes on, and hopefully, it will stay the last.

(This night worth another blog post that I would unfortunately need someone else to write, but here’s a snapshot from 10 AM on the Saturday morning)

For our reunion location this year we landed on Memphis, home to our gal Maria and St. Jude, where Zoe was also working for the summer.  Getting from SF to a small city on the east coast and outside of work hrs (needed as my current job is still #fresh) was no easy nor cheap feat, so a late flight a day before others arrived seemed the best option.

The difference in price from Wed to the Thursday flights was more than enough to cover both a night’s hotel and the weekend’s expenses, and as a luver of all mid-tier, chain hotels AND A Titanium Elite Marriot Bonvoy Member, I was enthused at an excuse for a night of crispy clean hotel linens and a mediocre yet, somehow mesmeric , complimentary continental breakfast of hard boiled eggs and bottomless coffee. 

Zoe and Maria live on the opposite sides of town and I didn’t finalized who I’d meet up with first until that evening, so, given the plethora of available hotels I delayed my decision until the plane. I booked a hotel for “tonight” and realized mid-book my “tonight” was tomorrow already thnx to time change, but couldn’t oddly book anything for tonight, tonight. “System error,” I thought, and knew I could figure it out when I landed. Again, every Marriott was available, it’s Memphis not Manhattan,  and I’m a F&cking Titanium Platinum Gold Elite Member of THE Marriott Bonvoy Institution .

Landing after midnight, dead tired, I order an Uber to my preferred Marriott hotel downtown, where there’s a million other hotels should my target be full. In the Uber I give them a call to be safe.

“Sorry Mam, we don’t have any available beds,” the marriot says

“WTF?! You did an hour ago!!” I demand

“Yes but none that are clean. sorry nothing we can do”

Um okaaay. I call another hotel, and another, and another. I found one with available rooms but they don’t take reservations after 11 PM….WHO THE F*CK KNEW ! Not me.  Panic ensues as the uber approaches downtown, the edge of the city. Zoe, who I was staying with the next day is out of town. It’s 1 AM. I use my google app to find the closes motel/hotel to me with booking options and okay reviews.

I see the Motel 6 that pops up on google IRL. 3.3 stars! Some 5 star reviews- can’t be terrible.

SIR PULL OVER HERE PLZ I yell to uber, George Henry approves. 

George Henry 5/5, 2 weeks ago , Google Reviews

“I came here because of a power outtage at my home, its a great place to get some shut eye, and located on multiple bus routes, its close to the downtown memphis area. ( walgreens across the way, and several fast food spots to grab a quick bite).”

Turns out from reading other comments and diving deeper, 99% of them were the owners/ fake. HA. Thank you “GEORGE” . “HENRY” !!! 

I should have listened to Jennifer.

WHAT I TOOK AWAY : Blessings Abound , Learnings Abound

I woke up the next morning after a few hours or minutes of sleep feeling ready to leave but also unexpectedly full of gratitude—relieved to have the sun above me like a blanket of protection. I hugged my body. I thanked God for the night’s shelter, for a room of my own in SF , and the gift of a place to call home. 

Thank you God.  But also HOW,God, is it a gift, is it a privilege to have a place to call home? 

Even in my 2 AM frozen fear I named that the Memphis Motel 6–my torture chamber—maybe asylum for many, or even an asylum some like those in Ukraine could only dream of. A mom and her kids abscond to this motel,  fleeing abuse. The motel’s AC saves a family of four from the 101 degree Memphis heat, like the man on Beale street begging for money for cool shelter I passed by a midst my weekend festivities, unable to afford even the government provided reprieve in the hospital.  The guarantee of shade trumps shady. 

Despite this deep unfairness in the definition of, and the access to , “safety” and the ways I can now smirk at my self for my reaction to the situation, my fear and anxiety in the moment was, in reality of feeling, unflagging. I covet routine—the patterns, places, and remedies “promised” to keep me safe and healthy.  Clinging to this structure is wired in me, a part of my, of our, survival.

But it’s important  a) to recognize the privilege of safety and b) to  break down the ways these survival mechanisms can hamper my ability to live and celebrate life—the very thing they seek to protect. 

My motel experience served as a reminder to celebrate and give thanks to my routine, my creature comforts, while still holding them loosely. My Memphis weekend kicked off a three week sting of festivities and time apart from my beloved pantry on the East Coast. I was both excited and anxious prior to departure—my normal pre-travel jitters. After my night at Motel 6, I felt more at ease in my travels and confident in my ability to release my routine. I may not have access to all of my supplement powders, herbs, and sprouted nuts, but at least I’ll be snug in bed bug free beds. Time to celebrate all that is Good!

Sent from my iPad