Bed and Breakfast and Bail Bonds
It was dark and I was tired so I took the next exit off of the Interstate on a random Southern road. Just didn't feel like the usual Motel 6 or Super 8 that night and something kept me driving on the empty stretch and make a left. About a half mile later, I saw a stone building (with two Confederate soldiers flanking a cannon out front) that was lit up with about ten-thousand Christmas lights. One small sign said "Bed and Breakfast" and just below that, another read "Bail Bonds". Well, that was just too good - enough to pique my interest to take a look at the place, so I parked the car and went up to ring the doorbell. The grandmotherly woman seemed like she was ready to head to bed, so I apologized for the interruption but asked if she had an available room for the night. She hollered for her husband.
Out from the back came a refined-looking genteel man with a voice that sounded like smoked hickory and honey. I could tell he loved to show off the place and was quite the talker. He began by telling me the mansion was built by slaves about one-hundred and fifty years ago, before the war(the Northern Aggression war, as he put it) and that all of the land surrounding the place, for miles around, was once part of the property. A famous Confederate General used to own it but I am not up on my Civil War history and couldn't place the guy. Then dollar amounts started to fly out of his mouth. "It took a million dollars to buy the place and another two million to renovate and I'm still not done". I was surprised that he did not seem to stress over that amount of cash and later on, pointed to his brand new Cadillac Escalade and Corvette, out front. I was shown the two available rooms for the night. The big one, downstairs came equipped with a jacuzzi tub and fireplace. The smaller room, in the back, had a regular bathroom across the hall and was much cheaper. Being the budget traveler, I chose that one.
After we had taken care of the bill, I was given a series of parting gifts: Two pens, one with a pull-out calendar for the new year, a key chain, several brochures, and a wall calender that included his Bed-and-Breakfast and Bail Bonds advertisement prominently placed, a NASCAR schedule, and local emergency numbers. Finally, I was handed a few business cards to pass out to my friends. On the front, was a photo of the bed-and-breakfast, complete with the Corvette and Confederate soldiers outside. But, on the back was a photo of a little kid in black-and-white prison garb looking glum behind bars!!! That side advertised the bail bonds half of his business. I thanked the man profusely for this priceless bounty! I was then escorted to the great dining room, which was festooned with holiday cheer. Tins and boxes of cookies and candies lined the walls (damned this wheat allergy!) and ceramic roosters shared space with Santa and Mrs. Claus. After being offered one of those Keurig-type coffees (I chose hot chocolate), the owner expounded on the virtues of the machine and mentioned that he was purchasing several others. By this time, it was clear to me that he and his wife were not in the hospitality business for the money, so I asked him why he rented out rooms? "Because I like meeting the people, and it helps offset the cost". Seemed reasonable enough.
Once I got to my room (very modest but did include a mini-fridge stocked with soda and bottled water, coffee maker and microwave) I knelt on the comfy bed and looked at the interesting painting on the wall. It was a copy of DaVinci's "Last Supper", except in this one, Jesus and the deciples were all either Middle Eastern or African-looking. Perhaps the owner was more progressive than his Confederate leanings suggested. Before I got settled in, I was given a tour of the back porch where a rangy stick-figure of a man was waiting to be driven home by the guy - he was the day laborer who was helping rebuild the porch (a forty-thousand dollar job to make it look authentic) and next to the parking lot was a trailer with a huge sign advertising the bail bonds. Then I found out that there was a prison just down the road. Ah hah!
After a night's rest, I declined the breakfast since my food allergy makes me travel with my own vittles. Mr. Owner started with more story telling. He asked me if I'd ever been to Colorado because he once had to chase down a man who skipped bail in that state. But, he assured me that he was definitely NOT like that Dog the Bounty Hunter guy from TV. However, tracking down (and shaking down) runaway scofflaws was part of his business. I looked over again at his nervous-looking wife. She didn't contribute to the conversation. Somehow, the topic changed to higher education and he informed me that after he was 50, he went back to college and got his Bachelor's, Master's AND PhD - in 6 years. Of course, his major was criminal justice.
I started counting backwards. I figured he must have held a government job and was able to retire early. He told me that he fought in Vietnam and had a gun put in his hand at the age of 17. My heart broke a little and I told him I was sorry he had to fight so young. But, his face never changed. There was no remorse or emotion of any kind at that memory. Then, I realized that his eyes stayed the same way throughout all of our conversations. While recounting story after story, his face was friendly, but immobile. This wasn't the case with his wife, who seemed to be glancing out the door every 10 minutes or so. Then it hit me. I knew there were "secret" underground government facilities in this part of the country. The interest in crime. The vast amounts of money at his disposal. The brilliant mind able to speed through three college degrees in six years and that immobile face. Now, maybe I spent too much time working for a late-night talk show but it suddenly seemed clear to me: This guy was maybe former FBI but more likely, ex-CIA!! That was it!! His calm demeanor was more robotic than human. The stories with that Southern drawl were a tad too perfect. In my mind, I saw him as a trained killer who obviously had an interest in criminal justice and after a lifetime of service, was now allowed to live out his life in peace, with the help of a generous severance package.
I had spent the night with the enemy.
After we had taken care of the bill, I was given a series of parting gifts: Two pens, one with a pull-out calendar for the new year, a key chain, several brochures, and a wall calender that included his Bed-and-Breakfast and Bail Bonds advertisement prominently placed, a NASCAR schedule, and local emergency numbers. Finally, I was handed a few business cards to pass out to my friends. On the front, was a photo of the bed-and-breakfast, complete with the Corvette and Confederate soldiers outside. But, on the back was a photo of a little kid in black-and-white prison garb looking glum behind bars!!! That side advertised the bail bonds half of his business. I thanked the man profusely for this priceless bounty! I was then escorted to the great dining room, which was festooned with holiday cheer. Tins and boxes of cookies and candies lined the walls (damned this wheat allergy!) and ceramic roosters shared space with Santa and Mrs. Claus. After being offered one of those Keurig-type coffees (I chose hot chocolate), the owner expounded on the virtues of the machine and mentioned that he was purchasing several others. By this time, it was clear to me that he and his wife were not in the hospitality business for the money, so I asked him why he rented out rooms? "Because I like meeting the people, and it helps offset the cost". Seemed reasonable enough.
Once I got to my room (very modest but did include a mini-fridge stocked with soda and bottled water, coffee maker and microwave) I knelt on the comfy bed and looked at the interesting painting on the wall. It was a copy of DaVinci's "Last Supper", except in this one, Jesus and the deciples were all either Middle Eastern or African-looking. Perhaps the owner was more progressive than his Confederate leanings suggested. Before I got settled in, I was given a tour of the back porch where a rangy stick-figure of a man was waiting to be driven home by the guy - he was the day laborer who was helping rebuild the porch (a forty-thousand dollar job to make it look authentic) and next to the parking lot was a trailer with a huge sign advertising the bail bonds. Then I found out that there was a prison just down the road. Ah hah!
After a night's rest, I declined the breakfast since my food allergy makes me travel with my own vittles. Mr. Owner started with more story telling. He asked me if I'd ever been to Colorado because he once had to chase down a man who skipped bail in that state. But, he assured me that he was definitely NOT like that Dog the Bounty Hunter guy from TV. However, tracking down (and shaking down) runaway scofflaws was part of his business. I looked over again at his nervous-looking wife. She didn't contribute to the conversation. Somehow, the topic changed to higher education and he informed me that after he was 50, he went back to college and got his Bachelor's, Master's AND PhD - in 6 years. Of course, his major was criminal justice.
I started counting backwards. I figured he must have held a government job and was able to retire early. He told me that he fought in Vietnam and had a gun put in his hand at the age of 17. My heart broke a little and I told him I was sorry he had to fight so young. But, his face never changed. There was no remorse or emotion of any kind at that memory. Then, I realized that his eyes stayed the same way throughout all of our conversations. While recounting story after story, his face was friendly, but immobile. This wasn't the case with his wife, who seemed to be glancing out the door every 10 minutes or so. Then it hit me. I knew there were "secret" underground government facilities in this part of the country. The interest in crime. The vast amounts of money at his disposal. The brilliant mind able to speed through three college degrees in six years and that immobile face. Now, maybe I spent too much time working for a late-night talk show but it suddenly seemed clear to me: This guy was maybe former FBI but more likely, ex-CIA!! That was it!! His calm demeanor was more robotic than human. The stories with that Southern drawl were a tad too perfect. In my mind, I saw him as a trained killer who obviously had an interest in criminal justice and after a lifetime of service, was now allowed to live out his life in peace, with the help of a generous severance package.
I had spent the night with the enemy.
posted by Anne S. @ January 07, 2012
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