If you have ever been in a Holiday Inn Bar, you have been in them all. At 2:00 in the afternoon when the bar tender was unlocking the door, I was walking by. "Why not!" I said as I walked in.

While sipping on a stale, overpriced beer out of a tall glass, a couple of other people walked in. They all appeared to be regulars from the greetings given by the bartender. I just sat there with nothing to do. My traveling partner was still in bed. I guess he was suffering with the world's biggest hangover.

We had been boozing and whoring for almost a year. We had gotten lucky and won the "BIG LOTTERY" of 83 million in Texas the year before. I had kept my mouth shut, went to a lawyer, made sure my wife of 40 years, our grown kids, and all the grandkids were taken care of for life.

Immediately thereafter I went bumming, in style. A big motor home with two drivers so we could keep that sucker rolling. We had a hard time finding two female drivers with the right type of license.

My lawyer made me run everything through him. "Big tits do not a bus driver make", Max the Mouth Piece yelled at me. I have to say that Max is one of the few honest lawyers I have ever known. He charges the shit out of me, but he keeps his word.

"And why not? You ever have seen them drive a bus?" I asked. But I knew he was right.

"Yes, I have" he screamed. "And I am still trying to settle everything with the two guys that the two blonde bimbos ran over making the turn off IH-10

a couple of days ago. It is a good thing the drivers were not hurt. I had to promise them a new pickup each for a signed release from them. They are at the dealers right now picking them out. Do you know the price of a new Ford Diesel?"

I noticed that those veins in his neck stick out a lot when he talks to me.

Here I am 60 years old and he talks to me like my daddy would if he were still alive. He is right though. I knew I was too drunk to drive that big Greyhound looking thing. Bart was in the back puking, so what were my options? Let one of the bimbos drive the bus? I can't even remember where we found them.

One of them told me she used to live with a truck driver, so that had been good enough for me. Away we went, out of the parking lot of a "Gentleman's Club," up on the west bound ramp of IH-10 on the eastside of Houston, Texas. We made it across town okay. The Bimbos did okay while I was in the back trying to make myself a vodka martini. I gave the one driving instructions to take us to the Wal-Mart on the west side of Houston. I told them we had to stop and get supplies for a trip Bart and I had planned. That is when things turned to shit.

"Get off here", I hollered as I felt the bus swerve to the right.... There was a terrible sound on the right side of the bus. Even Bart stopped puking cheap wine long enough to open the bathroom door.

"What the fu__!" Bart said over the screech of metal. And then a second screech and grind as the bus made a skidding stop.

I looked outside. There was the remains of a pickup smashed against the cement guardrail. I got out and looked. Here came two very pissed off individuals in hardhats... looking directly at me.

I knew the drill. Say nothing. Called Maximillian Guerra, Esquire, Attorney At Law. I ran it down to him what had happened and he hung up and told me to stay in the bus and not say a word. He called back and wanted to know EXACTLY where we were. I told him we were on an exit west of Houston and the two guys banging on the door had hard hats on that said "International Lighting Company, INC". Houston. There was blood in their eyes. Mine.

"That's great!" yelled Max the Mouth Piece. "What do you mean `GREAT',", I said.

"The owner of the company and I went to college together. Let me make a call" and he hung up.

I left the phone on and waited about fifteen minutes and the phone rang. "Yo", I said.

"Charlie, ask out the door if either one of the guys trying to get in is named Steve Riley" said Max in a very tired voice.

"Yo, ... any body named Steve Riley?" I shouted over the crowd noise. Several of his buddies had shown up too.

"Yeah, I `m Riley. What's it to you Shit Head. How did you know?" The biggest of them all shouted back.

"Yup, there is a Steve Riley here" I said in the phone to Max. "Put him on" he said.

"What? You want me to go out there?" I said. I then noticed that the two bimbos were leaning out the window on the driver's side giving all the boys an eyeball of tits. At least it kept them off Bart and me.

"NO! NO! NO! Just hand him the phone through the door. Any cops showed up yet?" Max asked.

"Nope"

"Yo! Steve. Its for you." I said "What kind of shit is this? You know my name and now you trying to tell me I am wanted on the phone. What kind of shit is this?" As he took a large piece of two-by-four and attempted to pry open a window.

"He don't wan...." I started to say.

"I have his boss on the phone on conference call.... tell him it is Ben Price calling and please talk to him".... groaned Max.

"Hey, Ben Price wants to talk to you." I said. And then all of a sudden things got quiet. Steve Riley looked at me strangely ... took the phone and walked away from the bus towards the front and stood in the lights with one hand over his left ear while talking. After a few seconds, he came back ... tossed the phone back up to me in the bus and said, "You got a deal".

"He said you got a deal. What deal?" I asked. That was when I was told I had just bought two new pickups.

A few minutes later, I felt like we could open the door of the bus without being dragged out and stoned. I opened the door and five or six guys all wearing hard hats and T-shirts with "International Lighting Company, INC Houston" got on. All of them were scoping out the bimbos while Bart and I got off the bus and walked over to the Wal-Mart parking lot. As luck would have it, a taxi was dropping someone off. Bart and I jumped in and said "Hyatt Regency, please."

The driver turned and looked at us. It was 7:00 AM and we looked and smelled like bums. I handed him a $100.00 bill, he smiled and away we went.

So, the next day Max called me about hiring two drivers. The bus had minor repairs that could be fixed in a week in Dallas.

He hired me two drivers alright. Not bad looking, a little rough around the edges, quiet types. Great drivers, but they did not smile. He made me promise that Bart and I would leave the "hired help" alone. We did. They were gay and we didn't know it until we had been on the road for about a couple of months later when we got the bus back. Bart comes up with a black eye he never did explain.

"That sorry piece of shit, signed a years contract with them two at six figures and per diem," I said to Bart Duffy, my traveling companion. Max was looking after my best interest. I got to admit they were good at their jobs ... the bus was always clean inside and out ... and they were Johnny on the Spot. Good mechanics too. Maybe, Max knew what he was doing after all.

My "partner in crime" was an old Navy buddy of mine ... we had both been with Inshore Warfare Group Pacific. We were not SEALS in any way shape or form ... those guys were good.... we were not sea going sailors either. In fact we had been "McHale's Navy" type all the years we were in the Navy, but we kept the brass happy by doing...