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Tuesday, November 2, 2010

The Booby Trapped Room - 2006

published on July 1, 2009

One of the bizarre things the Succubus and I discussed June 30, 2006 was the booby trapped room.

I was aware that I was going to accept this dare for years.  No one in their right mind should do this.  For a few years some people, especially some in my temple, reminded me about that.  Would I go there? I told them I would at the right time.  For some reason people think being the Messiah means I am a man that goes on a series of suicide missions.  As if Messiah is "survivor" not "messenger-savior."

In December of 2006, during the three days nicknamed "2-3-2" I knew it was time.  This was on the middle night.  I had gone out that day, in the silver Liberty to drive past the three places that represented the 3 "V's."

Two K's line 1 and day 1.
Three V's line 2 and day 2.
Two D's line 3 and day 3.

The first thing that happened that morning was two local fire department hook and ladders drive a loop in the parking lot outside my apartment.  I left for a drive around; this drive around was nothing eventful except of for one of the V's I could not drive past.  Or could I?  I got a phone call from my old girlfriend who might qualify as V while I was thinking about her.  Might have just been a coincidence?

That night something very strange happened.  The area around the A channel reeked of sulfur.  Very heavy and oppressive.  I thought tolerable but was not looking forward to going anywhere.  I have enough brains to know that to risk my life in this manner borders on the idiotic, if not over that border.

A man stood outside my balcony and a Pythonesque silly walk and signaled with his leg to leave.  This was a typical example of the Charades I was involved in.

So I left the hellish smelling Marina Harbor and drove around.  I spoke with my Dad and for some reason he was driving around, too.  I went to the mall near the Self-Realization Fellowship and ate at the Italian restaurant.  I took a picture of the Il Padrino (Godfather) poster in the bathroom.  My last supper? Why do I have do do these alone, I wonder.

To the Gangstas, I am very much like this character.

I decide to go to the hotel, formerly a Holiday Inn but renamed Los Angeles.  I drop off the Jeep and get a room.  Everything seems normal on the surface yet I know they are going to assign me to the booby trapped room.  This is not nearly as funny as it sounds.  Counting on the divine to stop yet another bomb attempt is testing God's Hand too far.

I take the keycard and proceed to the elevator.  I have no bags, if this goes as planned I will not be staying long.

When I get to the door I notice it had a strange scratch on it.  I slide my card, the green light flashes but when I attempt to open the door the light goes red and the door stops opening just past the lock.  I try this three times.  For some reason the door will not open.

I go back to the lobby.  They offer me another room but I tell them I have changed my mind and will not be staying the night and I ask them to bring my Jeep back.  The valet drives it up quickly and I drive it back to Marina Harbor.  The hellish smell had mostly subsided when I returned and I slept in my own bed.

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