The Bunk Room

"Where are you from? asked Winnie, one of the five sharing an 8 bed bunkroom at the Copperhead Lodge outside of Blairsville, Georgia.

"Jacksonville, Florida" I answered.

Without asking, she offered "I am from Tennessee, but I was born in San Francisco, then moved to Orange County, near Disneyland"  My real name is Winifred.  They called me Freddy in California, but felt that I had to change it to Winnie when I moved to Tennessee.  Didn't want people to think I was a lesbian or anything"

"Where are you from?"  She asked again.

Jacksonville, Florida, I answered again.

That pretty much sums up the stay in the bunkroom last weekend.

Thursday and Saturday had only Mark and me staying in the room.  Quite comfortable.

But Friday had us sharing the small space with Winnie, her motorcycle riding neighbor Steve, and a Harley riding heavy drinker, Donna.

Donna was at the bar most of the night.  Live music was featured on weekends so a solo act was playing well.  Donna, a singer in her own mind, especially when drinking, offered to make it a duet, but the singer declined.  A few more drinks and she didn't ask again, simply walked onto the makeshift stage and began singing.  The artist didn't shoo her off, but he wasn't happy.

When she came to bed, she could hardly get around, but finally found it and slept well.

In the morning, Winnie asked "where are you from?" yet again.

I asked if she and Steve were staying again and she said no.  Too bad, I thought to myself with a wry smile.

I asked Donna and she said that she would be back, but didn't show, much to the delight of both Mark and me.

I only booked the bunkroom because I was riding by myself and wasn't sure I would be able to make it.  And it was really cheap.  I almost upgraded, but thought it might make a fun post, getting Rocket and Me restarted.

A good blogger would have photographed the room and visitors.  But maybe it is best left to the imagination.

Bill