Melvyn’s: not if you have a pulse

Melvyns Mortuary

This story is nothing a good Cat D-9 could not fix (that is a real big bulldozer). One of my friends lost a companion of hers recently and wanted to return to the Ingleside Inn in Palm Springs for “old time’s sake” (I have stayed at the Ingleside Inn a few times in the past, and I had a nice time, it was easy and it was old then, now…it is much older). Well she had told her teenage son of all the great meals and times she and his dad had at Melvyn’s, the restaurant that is built into the motel. Now keep in mind Ms. E is very wealthy and could stay any place she chose, but she books three rooms here because she wanted to go down memory lane…except there was a “bump” in the road: an old asshole called Brain Ellis.

She makes a reservation and we arrive, but here we encounter Mr. Ellis. He has been the Maitre D’ and manager for over 20 years and he and his ill fitting tux need a review. He looks at me, I am wearing a pair of very nice shorts and matching silk t-shirt, Ms. E is dressed to the nines and the two boys are dressed very well. Remember it is the desert and it is hot! And Ms. E is a guest of the motel! This pompous asshole tells me “you need a collar” and my birkenstocks are not going to work either, the two boys likewise. Now keep in mind it is over 100 degrees out, but asswipe wants us to go get dressed to eat in Melvyns. The place is so dark that you could just as well sit in a speedo and I don’t think you would be noticed. Also we were dressed very nicely and it was only 6:30 P.M.

So Brian Ellis throws us out of Melvyns. Let me just say this: Ms. E wanted to try and go back in time to a place that she once enjoyed and to show her son where his now deceased dad and she spent many glorious evenings. And Maitre D Ellis killed it. And talk about killing folks, this place has a musty stench permeating the place, like the huge list of famous people they promote who have stayed there are now buried under the place, it has that “old lady” smell, for that matter so did Mr. Ellis, go figure. No one dares spray any insect killer in and around the outside of the building for fear of a major collapse it would cause in the event the the termites holding hands would all die and the walls would fall down.

This archaic rat trap sits off of Ramon Road…..people do yourself a favor and drive by, go visit a real mortuary…it will smell better. A good dust storm could just as well put this place and Melvyns out of its misery. This would even be better as an empty lot, I swear. My other thought is that it would not be bad place for a mortuary as many of the rooms look more like reposing rooms. And they could use Melvyns as the embalming room, as many of the old gas bags teetering on the stools are just about ready for a trip to the hereafter anyways, and Ellis could lead with a candle and that tacky suit he poses in.

And this would give Mr. Ellis something to do, you know, work as an assistant in the mortuary, not much different from what he does now. He could make sure the ladys hair is in place and be sure the mens zippers are up. Sure, Mr. Ellis, I understand when you get out of your two room apartment you must feel like a king standing at your little podium and telling people who can enter your dark and damp little hole in the wall…..just keep thinking “I see dead people.”

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