The lights from the truck stop brightened the parking lot, leaving Lauren feeling safe and secure as she walked across the ragged pavement. She reached up, stroked her hair, and then tugged on her blouse, hoping to smooth the creases. Her back ached from sitting in one position for too long. She'd been on the road for the last three and a half hours and the two 24 ounce bottles of Mountain Dew were now demanding release. She checked her watch, noted the time and opened the door to the normally rarely visited business.
Her gaze immediately went to the check-out counter, noting the familiar features of the retired fireman turned third-shift-truck-stop-attendant. "Hey Mike, talk to you in a bit!" she said as she dashed to the ladies room. Mike's "hi" back was followed by a chuckle, both of which Lauren heard, but ignored. She passed the Trucker's Lounge, an addition that Mike said would be finished when Lauren came through again. She barely spared it a glance, though mentally she promised to look later. Mike had been really excited about the new "state-of-the-art" equipment the owner had promised to install and she knew he would ask her about it when she was ready to check out.
Inside the ladies room, Lauren quickly relieved herself, sighing as her bladder thanked her. Once she was done using the restroom, cleaning her hands and examining her features, Lauren reached into her purse and took a moment to pamper herself. A few pumps of the paper towel dispenser gave Lauren enough paper to wash and later dry her face. The small Ziploc bag, she'd pulled from her purse, held her toothbrush, toothpaste and floss. She quickly brushed and then packed her hygienic items away. A hint of silver glimmered at the bottom of her purse. Lauren frowned, picked up the tube and then shrugged her shoulders.
"Why not?" she asked her reflection and applied a thin layer of light-bronze lip coloring to her full lips. She smacked them together, brushed her hair and stared at her reflection. A long drawn out breath left her lungs as she told herself she'd done all she could to look a little less sleepy.
Another quick glance at her watch told her she'd not wasted too much time in the restroom, so she had plenty of time to catch up with Mike. Lauren left the bathroom and walked back down the narrow hall in search of the old man. She passed the lounge again, yet spun around when she remembered her promise to look in on it.
Lauren stepped in, glanced briefly at the décor while letting her senses take in her surroundings. The room was dimly lit. A soft glow of a television screen aided the weak lighting. Lauren noted the figure of someone, presumably a trucker, sitting on a worn leather sofa. The television screen portrayed a well dressed man, sitting at a desk interviewing a small busty brunette who, in Lauren's opinion, was about to pop out of her blouse. Lauren rolled her eyes before resuming her survey of the room.
The scent of cigarette smoke hung thick in the air, as did the musky fragrance of cologne. She smiled at the familiar odors, odors she'd grown up with as a child. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. The pause in her reflection of the moment allowed her ears to pick up the faint sounds of moaning and grunting coming from the far corner of the room. Lauren opened her eyes and focused on the sound while turning toward it.
The man in the suit was no longer interviewing the young woman, at least not the way he had been when Lauren first walked in. Instead the dark-haired actor had the little woman on his desk, her stockings rolled down, and his tongue was leaving long promising licks against her flesh. Lauren glanced at the trucker on the couch, noting the way his body shifted slightly. Her eyebrows rose when she comprehended what the man was preparing to do. Quietly she turned, trying to make an unannounced exit to go along with her unannounced entrance.
"Hey! Miss Lauren!"
Lauren's eyes grew wide, her face grew flush; Mike stood in front of her.
"Brock, turn that shit off, Miss Lauren doesn't want to watch that."
Lauren bit her lower lip, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The sound of a muttered and shocked curse echoed behind her. She swallowed the lump in her throat, before turning around to face the man who had been on the couch. "Sorry; I didn't hear you come in." The stranger rose from his seat, tried to nonchalantly adjust his crotch, failed miserably, choosing instead to simply shrug his shoulders.
"Miss Lauren you take a gander at the new digs. I have to take a shit and well... I'll be in there a while. I locked up so don't worry about customers. Ol' Pete will never know," Mike told her then nodded toward Brock. "Brock this is Miss Lauren, she comes in here once every three months on her way back from Louisville. You be a gentleman to her."
Brock frowned, but agreed to Mike's demand. Lauren wanted nothing more than to leave, but she knew Mike would want to talk with her when he was done with business. She watched the old man make his way to the Men's room, leaving her to face Brock alone.
"Sorry about...," Brock nodded toward the television.
Lauren immediately lifted her hand. "No, don't worry about it. I'm sorry I intruded. Like Mike said, I stop over here on my way back from Louisville every three months. He'd been talking his ear off about this lounge Pete was adding and I had promised him I'd look at it when I came back through."
"Ahh, well this is it." Brock swept his hand around the room. "Feel free to look around, it's pretty standard, though I will admit it's homey and comfy, something truckers miss when they are on the road for days on end."
Lauren watched Brock turn away and make his way back to the couch, soon the television was on again; this time
I Love Lucy
reruns lit up the screen. Lauren chuckled, but took the brief tour around the room, making note of the lack of a feminine touch, something that didn't surprise her. When she was finished she found a place to sit, a plaid-covered chair just off to the side of Brock's couch.
