In another lifetime, I was working as a security guard, and sometime private investigator. My company would draft me for undercover assignments, which got me out of the guard thing for a while. I didn’t mind being drafted.
On one of these occasions, I was sent to a small town in the mountains North of Phoenix. Worked undercover in a variety store as a management ‘trainee’ whose real function was to spy on all the employees and management. Great stuff!
In such a position, I was quite concerned about my safety. If something untoward was going on, I didn’t want to get ‘made’ and ratted out, or worse. So, I carried a gun. Sadly, I’d sold my handguns for rent money (AGAIN – I was young, this was the 70s – sigh) and the only firearm I owned was my Ithaca DSPS Model 37 police pump. Not exactly concealable on-the-person.
So I toted her from under the motel bed into my car and back using my Dad’s weather-beaten trench coat as a gun rug! Sadly, she had to stay in the car while I was working.
And the motel was on the main drag through town; single-story, L-shaped, rough hewn, not unlike a(n) (in)famous motel of Hitchcock movie fame. I remember Triple A rating it, but not excellent. And I was so stoked not being a guard and doing undercover work, I’d wind down after my 12 hour shift with pizza and beer, while writing my daily report (dropped in the mailbox the next morning en route to work – this was WAY before the Internet!). Then I’d watch some late night movie on the 13″ B&W TV supplied in the room.
The first night the movie was In Cold Blood.
Not exactly restful slumber. But, I did this for a couple weeks, didn’t find any opium dens in the back room of the store, or mob-related activity, and returned home. Back to the guard stuff. Sigh.
But, I never looked behind the motel to see if there was a swamp containing cars. Guess I’ll never know…