The Hotel From Hell

 You know it’s bad when you immeaditely suspect that the dark, blurry object on your hotel bed is a small animal.

 It’s only a small relief when you realize that it’s just a hotel advert, tossed there by the same hotel worker who didn’t finish cleaning your original room—the blankets and sheets crumpled in a heap in the middle—and you had to call the front desk to be moved. I found it hysterically amusing that this same person had carefully folded the end of the toilet paper into a neat triangle.

 We–by this I mean myself and some of the family—traveled into Virginia, and the trip was charming, the weather warm and soft. However, if anyone who has traveled anywhere near Washington knows, hotel costs can be horrendous, and so we naturally ended up in the cheapest rooms anywhere. Not to be sued for libel or anything, but a similar name might be Crimson Roof Inn, 😛

 The unmade beds were one thing—the next was the fact that there was no. trashcan. in the room. No trashcan.  What kind of hotel doesn’t have a trash can? That’s right, a bad hotel. I flipped open the laptop, ready to check my blog comments, check my email, blah, blah. After a day of travel, my computer addiction was starting to hurt, hard.

 No go. I managed to find a signal, but it asked for name and password. I hit 0, and asked Hernandez (not real name, but close) what to do. Turns out that not only do we pay $80-plus bucks for the room, it’s an extra $11 for internet access. I looked pleadingly at The Parents, but they were unmoved. They have no blog. They have no pity. Inside, I writhed a little, and tried to watch CI. Gorn twitched and stared and prowled through the latest episode as usual, and I felt a little better.

 I felt a little less better when a total stranger (obviously male) pushes the door open a few inches, looks into our room and hastily withdraws. Apparently, our door doesn’t close all the way, and he amuses himself by randomly looking into unlocked rooms. I giggled a little hysterically. At that point, nothing else was going to bother me.

 My brother slid the bolt shut. No more strangers.

 However, some time later, we heard the charming sound of quarreling adults, a child screaming, and an odd, very heavy thud against our wall–these sounds were not connected, as it may seem, but when you wonder if you’re going to hear a fist-fight next, you just simply resign yourself to the craziness.

 Never again, my friends, never again. Not without internet access.

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April 11, 2008. Uncategorized.

6 Comments

  1. Ren replied:

    not to one-up you, but my church group stayed at a motel once where one of the rooms actually had fleas. sounds like your experience was pretty bad, though!

  2. Sarah replied:

    You poor thing!

  3. Dava replied:

    I stayed in a fancy hotel in NYC once for work. Very fancy (as in expensive) hotel, the kind that Lindsay and Britney like to hang out in. Because they overbooked (should have been a sign), they set me up in the penthouse suite. At first I thought it was lovely; i”d never been in a hotel room with hardwood floors, two bathrooms, and warm brownies waiting as I entered. Later I realized that if I was paying $1000 a night (up from the $500 the company shelled out) I would have been a bit upset about not having drawers that closed so I banged my shin into them every time I passed by, some unknown goo smeared and dried up all over one bathroom and an inadequate number of towels. I know I’m not svelte, but most folks need more than a hand towel. Not to mention the party girls banging on the door in the middle of the night. Not that it mattered much since I wasn’t actually in the room very long, but TV reception was lousy and internet service slow.

    But it’s always better than finding some unknown stain on the carpet next to the bed…

  4. AJ replied:

    Wow. That sucks beyond measure.

  5. Softening into Spring « The Lumpy Sweater replied:

    […] became more apparent to me on the two-day trip up to Virginia (with the hotel from hell). White and pale, pale pink cherry blossoms are everywhere, and you soon get a dusting of petals on […]

  6. Chelsea replied:

    Nasty…just nasty! I don’t think I’ll ever stay at, as you say it, crimson roof inn. I have friends that have had bad experiances there too.

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