Traveling with the rollergirls. The action is in the parking lot. Also known as After the Pimp Showed Up

As we staggered up the stairs to our room, loaded down with skates and suitcases, the girls on the balcony informed us gleefully that we had missed all the excitement.

Pointing and gesturing, they relayed to us a tale of two vehicles in the parking lot.
Vehicle number one was a big red truck, that appeared to be parked diagonally across several parking spaces.

Vehicle number two was a late model Subaru sedan, parked in the lower lot.

The gist of the story was that the truck had been parked, and the Subaru had driven directly into the rear corner of the truck, pushing it into the next parking space amid much squealing of tires.

Then the Subaru had attempted to leave.

And if I understand this part of the story correctly, several rollergirls ran downstairs and jumped in front of the Subaru, preventing him from exiting the lot.

Because OF COURSE THEY DID. And that, that right there, is the most important piece of the story of Roller Derby. These chicks can AND WILL literally jump in front of moving vehicles.
And if they are smart, THOSE VEHICLES WILL STOP TO AVOID SUSTAINING INJURY.

Rollergirls are like fucking superheroes and I, for one, would buy that comic book. (And by the way, don't think I am not already coming up with a comic book outlining this exact event.)

So after the tale had been told, and retold multiple times with varying degrees of accuracy depending on how drunk the storyteller was at the time of the retelling, we all stood around waiting to see What Happened Next.

I spare you the suspense. what happened was exactly NOTHING.
Because remember, we are in LA. And in LA police do not have the time to mediate every parking lot fender bender. If you haven't been shot, and if you aren't having some sort of big movie premiere requiring traffic redirection and crowd control, well......the impression I got was that you probably aren't going to get a real quick response.

But had the cops even been called? When they failed to arrive after an hour or so, the concensus was that no one had even called the cops because everyone involved was so stoned and/or drunk that they didn't want the cops involved.
Including the witnesses.
HOWEVER subsequent events led me to believe that there were additional illegal activities transpiring on the premises, perhaps even involving these very same individuals, which may have also led to them choosing to work this out amongst themselves. Because that night, we realized that aside from being a place to lay our heads, this motel was also a working establishment.

Yes, indeed. We had a pimp, ladies and gentleman.

Complete with hat and cane, we had our very own pimp daddy working the ghettotel.

I know this, because I almost ran him over with the minivan full of drunk girls on Saturday night as one of his employees was processing a transaction with him in the parking lot. I saw the whole thing on my rearview camera thing on the dashboard. I put the van in reverse, the camera came on and BAM there was the hand-off, right there in all of it's black-and-white, security-camera-footage-quality glory. I slammed on the brakes as one of the (very VERY drunk) girls leaned forward and started shouting at the employee as she hastily left the area. A barrage of insults flew forth. My mouth dropped open and I took a sharp intake of breath - I was horrified. And also, scared shitless.

In one fluid motion I hit all four window buttons and the power door locks. The doors locked, the windows closed, and the van was in drive before anyone could blink.

"EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP YOU ARE GOING TO GET US SHOT THIS IS L FUCKING A WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" We rolled down the hill and unlocked the doors briefly so another girl could jump in. And then I hit the gas, waved at our teammates who had just pulled into the parking lot, and pointed the van towards the promise of naked hot ladies on poles.

We were to be sadly disappointed.