The last crappy (for lack of better terms) motel I stayed in was a Motel 6. I ended up there last summer because my gas budget ran dry, and the only other money I had was hotel money…you get the idea.
Anyway, I go there and the guy at the front desk was a Spanish speaking man who thought his English was just fine. In school, Spanish class was nap class so I was clueless. However, it was educational for both of us. I learned how to say idiot in Spanish: idiota. He learned that “frustrating pea-brained man” in English was not a compliment.
Well, I finally climbed the stairs and visited my room: 113. It turned out, the man at the front desk had given me the keys for room 114, so I went back down to “haggle” for the right ones. That took awhile.
I finally get into my room…which appeared ok, until I went into the bathroom. No towels, and the toilet revealed evidence of recent use…and than there was the smell.
Later that evening, I turned on the air conditioner….only, it blew fire hot air…and it wouldn’t shut off…I also discovered that lamp by the bed didn’t work by a long shot.
I went out to dinner…it was the best part of the night. I came back to discover that the maids had cleaned my room…and some of my personal belongings. Thankfully, the “cleaned” items consisted of merely one nightgown, an imitation ring and the few dollars of snack money I had left.
That night, families kept arriving by the bucket load. I fell asleep to the bang of suitcases, the squeak of luggage carts, a crying child and a race in progress by two teen-aged boys.
The next morning started with a bang…it turned out the people above me were in the middle of an argument…an argument involving physical force. I partook of the continental breakfast offered at that Motel 6…a continental breakfast of half stale baggels, semi-hard boiled eggs and this black stuff they called coffee.
That is my worse motel experience to date.