She mixed Maxwell house original recipe with a house brand blend of some kind of Colombian stronger coffee. The two mixed together was very good, so I...didn’t see any reason to change it.Since the trailer was still chilly, I dressed for the day rather than wait till after breakfast. It was a good thing I did. Rita knocked on my door.“What can I do for you so early in the morning? You want some breakfast?” I asked.“No thanks I’ve already eaten. I need your help,” Rita said. “It’s mom.” She said. The men’s room was dimly lit with a single light bulb just hanging from it’s wires in the middle of the ceiling. There were no urinals, just one of those troughs with a trickle of water running leaking from the pipe along the top edge of the trough. In the far corner was one stall that had obviously seen better days. I had just started to piss when the door creaked open and in walked a big black guy dressed like a cowboy. He was wearing old boots, faded dirty jeans, one of those checkered long. More

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