Desiree

by Paul Hoffman.
Copyright (c) 1985, 1989 Paul M. Hoffman.

Warning

  We never had such a beautiful guest as Desiree Gray.
  She drove in one day --
    left her hat but lost her head
      in Old Billy Bob's Motel For the Dead.
  
  She was tall, very tall --
      that Desiree was six foot six;
    but then she lost most of a foot, I'd say,
    when she lost her head
      in Old Billy Bob's Motel For the Dead.
  
  Blond hair, blue eyes,
      no surprise to me, you see:
    Old Billy Bob keeps a thick scrapbook
        of all his guests,
        in advance,
    and I got a glimpse once --
  but he gave me a quick kick in the pants when he caught me.
  
  "Don't you look in my book!" said the old man.
  "I warned you once before, son,
    I won't warn you no more,"
        and I knew he meant it,
  but after just that one minute of looking in it
        I was hooked.
  
  What did I see? --
    people, names, faces --
    but none such an angel as Desiree Gray.
  Did I say how her smile wiggled and wobbled 
    in my brain all day, and every day since?
  I didn't know back then it was due to come off
    with the rest of her head
    when she stopped off on a rainy day
      at Old Billy Bob's Motel For the Dead.
  
  I was expecting her, you see,
    all decked out in my blackest tux
  (which was not at all out of the ordinary because
      in addition to being Old Billy Bob's assistant I was also
          headwaiter
    in the Dining Room of the Motel For the Dead).
  
  Like I said,
  I was expecting her.
  
  She came in for dinner and asked for a drink,
    but I don't think she ever finished it.
  Anyhow, my eyes were on her,
    and her eyes were on me--
      which you'll see wasn't such a good thing
    after all.
  
  Now my plan was simple:
    seat her near the door,
    slip a note in the menu which read:
  
      "I love you passionately.  Meet me by
          the Men's Room in five minutes.
            --Yours forever,
                  The Headwaiter.
      P.S.: Your life is in danger here; you must come away with me."
  
  But instead what happened was this:
    she read the note,
    smiled when I blew her a kiss,
  and we both missed Old Billy Bob
    when he came in the other door.
        (I always wondered
          what that other door was for.)
  
  Desiree took off her hat and set it on the placemat.
      Down came her long hair.
  We just smiled at each other for a while.
    I could see
        she was eager to come away with me.
  
  Now while we were distracted, Old Billy Bob grabbed a knife;
      it was a big one.
    Desiree's life would be short.
  
  Just then she stood,
    all six foot six,
        but not for long.
  I swooned;
    and when she called out for the bill
      Old Billy Bob came and lopped off her head
          and she fell to the floor dead.
  
  Then Old Billy Bob turned to me and smiled,
    and he said:
      "Now show her to her room, son.
        Make it our best one.
      Only the best for the most beautiful guest
        at the Motel For the Dead,"
    he said.

Last modified Friday, April 23, 2004 at 20:55:58 GMT -0500
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