Ford Prefect

Ford Prefect decided that in order to get in a proper state of mind, it would be best if he temporarily lost track of his for awhile. With that thought, he fished around the glove compartment of the ship for some loose change.

Now, it must be noted that the term “glove compartment” brings very different things to mind to people of (former) planet Earth compared to people from the rest of the Galaxy. Earthlings generally think of a glove compartment as a rather tiny box that rests in dash on the passenger’s side of an automobile. Inside, one would typically find maps, old key chains, lipstick containers, a few loose coins, and, on rare occasions, gloves.

However, to the vast majority of beings throughout the Galaxy, the term describes a room about thirty meters by ten meters that was an option in some of the mid-class spaceships produced about thirty years ago. The original idea behind the design was to ensure that no matter what size hands, or how many hands, an individual had there would be a place to put gloves. It was soon realized by hitchhikers that the glove compartment was an ideal place to stowaway in because it afforded a great deal of living space and there was always enough loose currency of all sorts to buy at least one drink in any part of the galaxy. Most glove compartments were discontinued after several incidents of small groups of hitchhikers forming their own miniature societies inside them.

After finding enough to buy a drink, Ford immediately sought out the nearest vending machine and deposited his money into it and said, “One Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster. A fresh one. I don’t want some old musty one that will only distract me from reality. I want to lose it for a good long time.”

The machine replied in a sexy female voice, “Well, of course my friend. One bottle coming up.” The machine made some clunking and fizzing noises. Ford waited, but no bottle appeared in the dispensary.

“Hey, what gives?” Ford asked the machine, spanking it on the side. “I’m not any closer to being blissfully unaware of anything than I was when I started.”

The machine responded, “Oh dear, it seems as if the bottle has gotten stuck. It looks like you’ll have to reach up inside me and wiggle it loose.”

Very determined to get very drunk in the very near future, Ford rolled up his sleeve and kneeled down in front of the machine. He pushed past the metal door that covered up the opening and was annoyed when his hand was immediately shoved back. The machine said “Sorry about that. It’s a built in anti-theft response. You will have to go slower.”

Ford sighed and gently pushed the door back as slow as he could. The machine’s voice seemed to lower ever so slightly. “Yes, that’s right, nice and slow.” The machine hummed as some motors and gears began to turn over inside it. “Since we’re going to be working together, what’s say we learn each other’s names.” The machine said briskly, “I’m Debbie.”

Ford was in the machine up to his wrist. “Yeah hi, my name’s Ford.” He wiggled his fingers in an attempt to feel around for the bottle.

Debbie responded, “Ford, that’s a nice name. It sounds very masculine.” A shudder ran through the entire machine as Ford wiggled his fingers again. “Ford, I must say that you have very smooth hands.”

“That’s great.” Ford said, not paying any attention to what the machine was saying. “Could you tell me if I am getting close?”

The machine purred, “A little further up and to the right. Yeah, that’s it… remember to go slow.”

Ford was beginning to wonder if all this effort was worth the trouble. It then occurred to him that if he got the drink, he wouldn’t remember or care about anything he had to go through to get it. A look of determination came over his face and he focused all his efforts into the task at hand and with careful precision he slowly thrusted his hand even deeper up inside Debbie

The lights on the face of the machine began to flicker and Debbie said, “Oh wow, you’re good at this…Yeah…I can tell you’ve done this before.”

Suddenly, a blast of fluid struck Ford in the face. “What the…?” He started and wiped his face with his free hand. Debbie said,” Don’t worry about it baby, it was just a coolant leak. Keep going…oh yeah…you’ve almost got it…”

Ford felt his fingertips brush up against the plasti-glass of the bottle. “There it is…” He tried to coax the bottle down by flicking his fingers against it, trying to get it to roll.

Debbie shuddered loudly and violently. “Yes! Oh yes, yes, yes!!” The bottle fell into Ford’s waiting hand. He quickly pulled it out and opened it up.

The lights on the front of the machine were glowing softly as he walked away. Debbie called out after him, “Come back soon Ford!”

Ford took a careful sip from the bottle and quickly realized that it wasn’t a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, he wasn’t sure what it was, but the fact that he could still see straight and was completely aware of his surroundings made him toss the bottle aside with distain. He started to go back, but after glancing at the machine, still dripping coolant, he decided against it. Instead, he headed into the main lobby and straight to the front desk.

A tall bat-like creature with three eyes asked, “May I help you sir?”

“Yes,” replied Ford brightly, “Is the Super Penthouse Suite available?”

The creature gave him a look. It was the kind of look a person gives a wet dog that wants to jump up on your lap. Being a well traveled hitchhiker, Ford was used to the look and had many responses at the ready. He rolled his eyes, nonchalantly put his arm up on the desk and started to drum his fingers while looking at his watch. Any seasoned hitchhiker would immediately recognize this maneuver as an audacious bluff that only the best had any chance of pulling off.

The creature saw Ford’s disgusted attitude and contempt and immediately assumed him to be somebody very important. “I’m sorry, but a party from Valhalla has had that entire floor booked for quite sometime now. They are celebrating the ‘end of the world’ or some such thing.”

“Okay then, how about the President’s suite?”

“Sorry, but President Beeblebrox has been very busy there lately, if you take my meaning sir.” The creature winked its middle eye at Ford.

“Zaphod Beeblebrox is here? Now?”

“Oh yes sir, he has been here quite sometime.”

Ford pondered the news. Perhaps he should go up and surprise Zaphod. After all, they had gone through a lot together over the last couple of years. Also, he would be sure to have some very good booze with him; lots of it.