We have not had too much to tell you about Hillbilly Joe and his adventures because, quite frankly, we were worried about the effect it might have on your mental stability. Now I figure if you all take the time to follow the news media today, which most of you do, then your mental state must already be pretty fragile and Hillbilly stories might only make you worse, thus raising the average income of the Coltons shrinks.
But now I don’t really care because they, the shrinks, are entitled to their income and what makes me the overseer of the mental state of the Pointers? People will find their own path to insanity and why miss good stories like those of the legendary Hillbilly Joe.
His latest misguided nightmare, which comes to him every time he adjusts the face mask he wears to sleep to regulate the oxygen supply to his brain, as if the oxygen flow to his brain really had anything to do with his thought process, is a tale of tragedy no one should miss.
Hillbilly made one of his infrequent ventures out of the safety of the Coltons swampland with a group of friends to attend a reunion, the kind of social occasion in reality he would avoid like the plague. It must have been some kind of reunion because it was in a hotel that was over 100 stories tall.
Hillbilly checked in and the concierge, the fact they even had a concierge shows you what kind of hotel this was, sent a bell hop to show Hillbilly his room. Like a good country boy Hillbilly left his bags in the lobby so as not to burden the bellhop and to avoid having to spend extra money tipping the guy just for carrying bags.
The room was on the 1st floor although the bellboy took him on the elevator to get there. That should have been the first sign of trouble to old unsuspecting Hillbilly but he didn’t find it odd figuring the bellhop was just taking the long way to get a bigger tip. Once he got there he graciously tipped the guy twenty-five cents and returned with him to the lobby to get his bags.
Armed with two giant suitcases packed by his mother so he would be prepared for anything and any weather, although he was only there for two nights, Hillbilly ambled over to the elevator and punched the button. Inside he punched the button for the 1st floor and the elevator took off for what seemed like eternity to get him where he started, the first floor.
When the door opened all Hillbilly could see were endless corridors and stepping out of the elevator, which promptly slammed the door shut and took off, Hillbilly noticed for the first time there were no room numbers on the doors. Now how in the world was he going to find his room?
At this point he had a key to a room and no clue where the room might be so down the hall he went trying door after door until he came to the 17th door which promptly opened. In the somewhat exhausted Hillbilly went only to discover someone had already moved all their stuff into the room and it couldn’t be his.
Back in the hallway he concluded he was clearly on the wrong floor and set out in search of a stairway as there didn’t seem to be anymore elevator doors around. Finding a sign for the stairs he slammed through the door with the two giant bags in tow and before him the stairs seemed to go straight, not up or down like he expected.
Suffice it to say the day was quite confusing for Hillbilly as he trudged along the flat stairs to the next floor, checked the numberless doors, and came back to the stairs. Several hours later he found a window in the lobby, looked out, and realized he was halfway up the 100 story hotel in search of his room on the first floor.
Well this sad saga goes on and on and he proceeded to meet two women in the stairway also lost. The three stayed together for hours sharing some of the snacks packed in his giant bags before parting company. It was 48 hours later, yes two days, when poor Hillbilly sat down on his bags in utter dismay and all of a sudden through the stairway door popped three of his buddies from the reunion.
They wanted to know where he had been for the past two days; he missed all the parties and beer. Then they led him out the door to his room, the first door they reached. Exhausted but thankful Hillbilly went in only to find the strangest sight.
When he made reservations he ordered a room with a king size bed. The bed he faced was kind of king size as the top mattress was a king, but the box springs under it were full size, thus leaving the king size mattress draping over the box springs to the floor. Some joke he thought.
Jerking the king mattress off he threw it on the floor, promptly dropped to the mattress, and tried to put the entire nightmare behind him by going to sleep without his sleep machine. He awoke to an earthquake, the floor and walls shaking, before he realized it was just his mom pounding at the trailer door wanting to know if he was ready for breakfast. Hillbilly Joe is not so sure about the sleep machine and face mask anymore. And he sure isn’t accepting any invitations to reunions.