Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • Florence, Oregon - A Night at the Silver Sands Motel

    The reviews online said things like, "We have stayed at this motel for 30-years, until this year. We were welcomed by a bed with no sheets or pillowcases and decided to never return."

    "Don't stay here, everything is covered in germs and dirt."

    "If you want to stay somewhere nice, GO SOMEWHERE ELSE."

    And, "I would not recommend this place to my worst enemy."

    We decided to stay there, naturally.

    It wasn't the dirt and germs that got our attention, no.

    It was my wit and charm scoring us a great rate that sealed the deal.

    Ivan, the manager, came to the front counter with no shirt on. He was in the middle of a shower, he said.

    Ivan's chest is very, very hairy.

    He seemed like the sort of guy that is living in the body of a person who drinks too much cheap beer and belongs on an Adult Swim series, but secretly should have been a spy.

    I liked that.

    And, I too, drank cheap beer.

    I thought that Ivan and I might have more in common than meets the eye... Might.

    We cooked our food on a small gas camping oven outside of our suite.

    Our $40, two queen beds (with sheets) and a bathtub (complete with someone else's pubes), suite.

    Glory was ours.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.