What Name For the Room?

The night that Bonnie’s ex-boyfriend came to visit campus was … memorable.

After Todd called her, Bonnie shrieked, “He’s coming to see me!” nine billion times.

Todd was sexy, rough and dark. Bonnie had adored him since she’d met him, years prior in her hometown, and he similarly adored her, but they’d never officially been a couple.

That’s because Todd was married.

Bonnie was thrilled that he was coming to visit her at college, so she spent all day getting ready. She did her five-hour hair and makeup routine while I sat in her room smoking cigarettes and drinking beer, waiting.

Todd showed up three hours late, with some guy named Tim.

Bonnie jumped on Todd, kissing him intensely for about five minutes. Tim and I stood there awkwardly, two redheads waiting for the brunettes to finish.

Bonnie and I were bombed before they arrived; the guys were also rather drunk upon arrival. We went to a bar for a few minutes but didn’t waste any time in finding a place to settle down for the evening.

We saw a sleazy hotel with peeling paint and a red awning over the half-lit vacancy sign. It had cheap rooms and a night clerk who kept reservations on a carbon copy notepad.

He asked: “All night or by the hour?”

None of us knew how to answer that.

“All night!” Bonnie decided – so we started counting cash, trying to figure out how much we had for this adventure.

While we counted, the night clerk spoke again. “What name for the room?”

Todd started to give his full name: “Todd ….”

“No!” Bonnie interrupted. “Don’t give them your real name!” He was married, after all.

Todd was not the brightest bulb. “What name should I give him then?”

The night clerk waited.

I started laughing and couldn’t stop, watching the stoic night clerk. Bonnie started laughing, too. Todd and Tim stared at us.

Tim said, “Just use my name!”

At the same time Bonnie yelled, “Dodd! Use Dodd Smith!” Then acknowledging Tim, she hooted: “Dodd and Dim!”

Todd turned to the night clerk. “Dodd and Dim,” he said seriously. “Dodd and Dim Smith.”

Bonnie and I wailed with laughter; nothing ever said had been as funny as “Dodd and Dim.” Tears poured from our eyes and we could barely stand.

The night clerk never smiled or blinked. “How do you spell that?”

“D-O-D-D,” Todd began.

Screeching with laughter all the way down the hall, we reached our room in hysterics. “DODD AND DIM!” we screamed. “DODD AND DIM!” Getting the key into the door was all but impossible and when the door finally swung open, it smacked into a cheap dresser, knocking off several drawer handles.

This was nearly as funny as Dodd and Dim.

Bonnie and I literally fell onto the floor, rolling around on disgusting red shag carpet, crying and laughing until Bonnie finally stopped long enough to say: “I need a beer!” – bringing us back to our senses and calming us enough to crack open four new cans.

I don’t remember if we stayed all night.

I do remember, though, weeks later when Todd called again.

Bonnie was out with a guy named Joe – but Todd asked for me.

“Ya wanna hang out?”

I did.

Todd and I went back to that same motel, this time paying the hourly rate. He again used the name Dodd Smith, but there wasn’t anything funny about it this time.

It took me years to forgive myself for that second visit – not because Todd was married, but because Bonnie loved him with all her heart.

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