Mar 2014
There’s a boarding house off the main road
Right by the park
It’s called The Roach Motel
And that’s where we had quite a number of our infamous get togethers
When it was occupied with Latin dance music and the stomping of feet, it was like a pulsating tumor on that side of town
The Roach Motel
Because you could drink till you blacked out and then spend the night on the floor as a guest with various multiple legged pests
Silverfish on the walls
***** dishes stacked well in the sink
Day old Chinese food in the table
And of course roaches weaving in and out of the crevices of the kitchen
Yet people always came back knowing of such dishevelment
Maybe it was the fully stocked refrigerator of at least four different kinds of ice cold beer
Or the vast array of liquors that were always present
Gin
Whiskey
***
Whiskey
Tequila
And the sodas and juices to mix them with or use as chasers
It may very well be the delicious, calming tobacco that was stuffed into the alluring green hookah with two hoses
One red
One blue
I believe it’s simply the vibe of it all
When you’re at The Roach Motel you feel free, you feel like all your worries are gone
And there’s always a drink in your hand and you’re always among friends even in strange company
Whatever it was we always found ourselves going back
The Roach Motel was owned by Venezuelan mother of six children who allowed these festivities to commence
And when word got out that there would be a party soon to come everyone spread that word all over like a pat of Land O’ Lakes on a warm English muffin
Kids from Bergenfeild
From Dumont
From New Milford, Palisades and Garfield
Drinking the night away with bugs and good friends
The mangy scruffy rat looking dog running around the whole party avoiding being stepped on
Unidentifiable arthropods crawling out the sink
Laughing uncontrollably
Conversing incoherently
Then passing out and waking up with a horrible hangover
I remember the time four of our friend puked their guts out there
One in the toilet
One in the bath tub
On in the bedroom
And one on the living room floor…there was corn in it
Two hours of comforting and clean up
I remember our 420 party
Where the legendary Quincy Valero ate his very first bud brownie and went on a trip he still to this day cannot replicate
I recall setting off fireworks off in the back of The Roach Motel and in my drunken buffoonery knocking over a lit mortar and nearly blasting the neighbor’s fence down but it was averted thanks to Quincy’s rare swiftness
This place is a backdrop of so many hook ups, so many good times and of course insect infestation
Although a great party pad it was filthy and you would feel itchy whenever you thought about how gross it was
I would never sit on a couch or on a bed
I had the fear of picking up bed begs and bringing them home
But despite that The Roach Motel was our own little slice of Dionysian Utopian freedom
It mirror all our rundown rugged ***** souls that just needed a place to unwind and fall apart and float down the bourbon river and just lose it
With a joint or an electric cigarette being passed around
And electronic music being blasted
It was always another night full of future stories to tell
The Roach Motel
Right by the park
It’s called The Roach Motel
And that’s where we had quite a number of our infamous get togethers
When it was occupied with Latin dance music and the stomping of feet, it was like a pulsating tumor on that side of town
The Roach Motel
Because you could drink till you blacked out and then spend the night on the floor as a guest with various multiple legged pests
Silverfish on the walls
***** dishes stacked well in the sink
Day old Chinese food in the table
And of course roaches weaving in and out of the crevices of the kitchen
Yet people always came back knowing of such dishevelment
Maybe it was the fully stocked refrigerator of at least four different kinds of ice cold beer
Or the vast array of liquors that were always present
Gin
Whiskey
***
Whiskey
Tequila
And the sodas and juices to mix them with or use as chasers
It may very well be the delicious, calming tobacco that was stuffed into the alluring green hookah with two hoses
One red
One blue
I believe it’s simply the vibe of it all
When you’re at The Roach Motel you feel free, you feel like all your worries are gone
And there’s always a drink in your hand and you’re always among friends even in strange company
Whatever it was we always found ourselves going back
The Roach Motel was owned by Venezuelan mother of six children who allowed these festivities to commence
And when word got out that there would be a party soon to come everyone spread that word all over like a pat of Land O’ Lakes on a warm English muffin
Kids from Bergenfeild
From Dumont
From New Milford, Palisades and Garfield
Drinking the night away with bugs and good friends
The mangy scruffy rat looking dog running around the whole party avoiding being stepped on
Unidentifiable arthropods crawling out the sink
Laughing uncontrollably
Conversing incoherently
Then passing out and waking up with a horrible hangover
I remember the time four of our friend puked their guts out there
One in the toilet
One in the bath tub
On in the bedroom
And one on the living room floor…there was corn in it
Two hours of comforting and clean up
I remember our 420 party
Where the legendary Quincy Valero ate his very first bud brownie and went on a trip he still to this day cannot replicate
I recall setting off fireworks off in the back of The Roach Motel and in my drunken buffoonery knocking over a lit mortar and nearly blasting the neighbor’s fence down but it was averted thanks to Quincy’s rare swiftness
This place is a backdrop of so many hook ups, so many good times and of course insect infestation
Although a great party pad it was filthy and you would feel itchy whenever you thought about how gross it was
I would never sit on a couch or on a bed
I had the fear of picking up bed begs and bringing them home
But despite that The Roach Motel was our own little slice of Dionysian Utopian freedom
It mirror all our rundown rugged ***** souls that just needed a place to unwind and fall apart and float down the bourbon river and just lose it
With a joint or an electric cigarette being passed around
And electronic music being blasted
It was always another night full of future stories to tell
The Roach Motel
