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Cruise of the Foo Foo Special Jr, by Art Widner, Jr., 1943

Page 10

10 * * * The Cruise of the "FooFoo Special Jr"

The hotel in New Haven is one of the chain called the Milner Hotels, which have rooms for $1 per nite, or $1.50 with bath. They have hotels in practically every big city in the US.

I obtained a dollar room in a hurry and went up. But the door was a pretty sad sort of a door and it wouldn't close and lock after I got it open -- and I couldn't find the community bathroom after searching thru a labyrinth of narrow zigzag corridors for fifteen minutes. So I went down, paid 50c more, and got a room with a bath. This was much nicer, since I had no bathrobe and didn't care to go wandering thru a mile and three furlongs of enigmatic doors, any one of which at any moment might disgorge a horde of finicky females who would shriek bloody murder or something and have me arrested for being clad only in a towel. It never occurred to me to undress in the bathroom, simply because I have never done that.

So anyhow, what with the delay in getting a room, soaking overlong in the hot shower, and rummaging around in my knapsack for a clean pair of sox which seemed to take fiendish delight in playing hide-and-seek with me (I refused to dump the whole contents out on the bed as being unsportsmanlike), I was an hour late and then some to meet Lou and Paul. In fact, Lou was just setting off into the beginning drizzle in search of me when I arrived.

Paul Spencer turned out to be a very pleasant chap, slight of build and light of hair and knowing lots and lots about science fiction and all sorts of interesting side-trax thereform, as you no doubt agree after reading his entertaining article in Spaceways. We landed in a restaurant and spent the evening there after ravenously consuming a good-sized supper. Finally, about 10PM, we essayed forth into what was by then a very thick drizzle. Just about one thickness short of a good soaking rain. We ducked under awnings until we reached the college magazine store. This place, I am confident, had a current copy of every magazine then being published. There were also some inexpensivedition books with several fantasy titles. Lou bot one, and I guess Paul bot one, but I can't remember what.

I gave the clerk instructions to call me at five, but I never heard the bell, or else the so-and-so forgot. I didn't like his looks anyway, so I prefer to believe the latter.

It didn't make any difference, tho, because the drizzle was now so thick that the atmosphere was 90% water, and I might just as well have headed for home via Long Island Sound. After breakfast it still continued with no signs of letup, so I bot the current issue of Weird Tales, the best I could find the limited stock of a nearby cigar store. I settled in an easy chair and finished half of it by noon, interspersed with many glances out of the window. Finally, I could stand the inaction no longer, since I had to be home the following day, and I easily persuaded myself that the rain had let up a bit.

I rode a couple of block and easily persuaded myself that it was raining harder than ever, and took shelter in a garage. I read a couple more stories. Keller and Lovecraft had written them and they were fairly good. I started out again and was forced to ride a couple of miles before I could find shelter again. I read some more. Finally it did let up a little. I sallied forth and made the city limits, where it promptly clabbered up and sluiced down again. I waited in a gastation, consumed most of their soft drinks, finishing the WT, and fidgeted. I fidgeted until three o'clock and finally determined to try for New London come hell or high water.

Indecisiveness, useless irritability at the inevitable, and unjustifiable timidity put aside, I found that it wasn't very bad after all;

Saving...

10 * * * The Cruise of the "FooFoo Special Jr" The hotel in New Haven is one of the chain called the Milner Hotels, which have rooms for $1 per nite, or $1.50 with bath. They have hotels in practically every big city in the US. I obtained a dollar room in a hurry and went up. But the door was a pretty sad sort of a door and it wouldn't close and lock after I got it open -- and I couldn't find the community bathroom after searching thru a labyrinth of narrow zigzag corridors for fifteen minutes. So I went down, paid 50c more, and got a room with a bath. This was much nicer, since I had no bathrobe and didn't care to go wandering thru a mile and three furlongs of enigmatic doors, any one of which at any moment might disgorge a horde of finicky females who would shriek bloody murder or something and have me arrested for being clad only in a towel. It never occurred to me to undress in the bathroom, simply because I have never done that. So anyhow, what with the delay in getting a room, soaking overlong in the hot shower, and rummaging around in my knapsack for a clean pair of sox which seemed to take fiendish delight in playing hide-and-seek with me (I refused to dump the whole contents out on the bed as being unsportsmanlike), I was an hour late and then some to meet Lou and Paul. In fact, Lou was just setting off into the beginning drizzle in search of me when I arrived. Paul Spencer turned out to be a very pleasant chap, slight of build and light of hair and knowing lots and lots about science fiction and all sorts of interesting side-trax thereform, as you no doubt agree after reading his entertaining article in Spaceways. We landed in a restaurant and spent the evening there after ravenously consuming a good-sized supper. Finally, about 10PM, we essayed forth into what was by then a very thick drizzle. Just about one thickness short of a good soaking rain. We ducked under awnings until we reached the college magazine store. This place, I am confident, had a current copy of every magazine then being published. There were also some inexpensivedition books with several fantasy titles. Lou bot one, and I guess Paul bot one, but I can't remember what. I gave the clerk instructions to call me at five, but I never heard the bell, or else the so-and-so forgot. I didn't like his looks anyway, so I prefer to believe the latter. It didn't make any difference, tho, because the drizzle was now so thick that the atmosphere was 90% water, and I might just as well have headed for home via Long Island Sound. After breakfast it still continued with no signs of letup, so I bot the current issue of Weird Tales, the best I could find the limited stock of a nearby cigar store. I settled in an easy chair and finished half of it by noon, interspersed with many glances out of the window. Finally, I could stand the inaction no longer, since I had to be home the following day, and I easily persuaded myself that the rain had let up a bit. I rode a couple of block and easily persuaded myself that it was raining harder than ever, and took shelter in a garage. I read a couple more stories. Keller and Lovecraft had written them and they were fairly good. I started out again and was forced to ride a couple of miles before I could find shelter again. I read some more. Finally it did let up a little. I sallied forth and made the city limits, where it promptly clabbered up and sluiced down again. I waited in a gastation, consumed most of their soft drinks, finishing the WT, and fidgeted. I fidgeted until three o'clock and finally determined to try for New London come hell or high water. Indecisiveness, useless irritability at the inevitable, and unjustifiable timidity put aside, I found that it wasn't very bad after all;