THE AMAZING HOTEL TOWEL

By the Way, I Am Not a Racist

By the way, I am not a racist. And life itself is extremely sexist. Our church was the all white Baptist Church. This story is about the assassination of the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther K - g Junior. When the Negro men folk all got together for the shot, they pointed directly and indirectly at the shooter. They were an equivocal blob like group of all male togetherness as I stood there, trying to get to the hotel room. They were brave to stand around like that, in the line of fire, but it was their job to be the great man’s entourage, I guess. A lot of Black Americans would have died to have taken those bullets.

I was the maid. I had to go in there and make the bed. I had the equipment around the corner. I was waiting because I was stark staring terrified that the shooter would shoot me. He was right around the corner on the opposite side of the tracks, only about a hundred feet away. And he had a sniper gun with an excellent sight. Pausing momentarily, I was standing there realizing something, and then I hated myself completely. I had been told to go mop up the room.

I had to go get the amazing towel. I was going to be mopping up some excess blood, slightly. And of course, in the cheap hotel we were all stuck working at, the towels ran short sometimes. I was stuck taking the blame for that, and they were constantly threatening to fire me from my job for breathing. In spite of them, I liked the man who was stuck staying at their hotel – for being what he wasn’t, namely a fat comic.

Such a fat comic. Dying in public is such a martyr thing to do. A martyr. A fat comic. I was in love with the guy for breathing. I wanted to. Anyway, I was standing there idiotically wondering if James Earl R - , the assassin as it turned out to be, liked to shoot maids. I finally let out a dry chuckle. Both of those young men, famous and infamous, would have to face a terrible final reckoning. I had no real man in my life to take care of me. Also, I had no unearthly paradise known as Heaven, especially anymore. I had a feeling the shooter was going to shoot me, and I had to plan something to even get in there to mop up the room.