An Inconvenient Stay

I was traveling for business a while back and was put up in a motel called “Microtel“.  The name alone evokes mental images similar to a broom closet with a toilet.  Unfortunately, my preconceived notion was not far from the truth.
  You’ve probably never hear of “Microtel“, and I would guess that because, they haven’t really put themselves out there as a business that focuses on customer satisfaction.  While I wouldn’t consider this to be a five star experience, I give it five stars in a comic sense, since the only thing that has gotten me through my stay is the absurdities that I have witnessed on a daily basis.  As far as class, I wouldn’t rank it in STARS exactly, rather in piles of steaming dog shit… Three and a half piles to be exact. They might have earned four piles but the tiny soaps smelled like bug repellant.
  Upon my arrival, I walked up to a building that looked to be quite accommodating, at least from the outside. It looked as if to be a string of town houses all in a row. I felt like I would walk inside and see the entire cast of Full House. ”Oh hey Uncle Joey, Uncle Jesse, where can I put my bags?” When I walked inside however, a different story unraveled. Something to be taken out of the National Lampoon catalog, would be an accurate account. The mood at the front desk screams "NO ONE CARES THAT YOUR HERE…JUST PICK A ROOM AND GO!” Finally, when the girl behind the desk decided to peel her eyes away from MySpace, I received Microtel's version of customer service. I received my key, and was notified that there is no shuttle to take me about, no gym in the building, but I get free wi-fi, and the telephone is no charge to anywhere in the 48 states.  I requested a non-smoking room, but the entire hallway smelled of smoke. My room was the last room on the left, and I expected the smell of stale smoke to subside as I ventured closer to my room. I was wrong.
  As I entered my room, I noticed it’s size immediately. A ten by ten square whose dimensions looked prison-esque. Instead of furniture there were little shelves. I almost felt like I checked into rehab or a mental institution. I wonder if room service is served by sliding the tray under the door. There are mirrors on both sides of the room. The one behind the bed takes up the entire wall…THIS MUST BE THE HONEYMOON SUITE, I thought.  The crazy thing is that the mirrors are very large and on opposite walls, so that whole “infinity” effect was happening and was quite distracting.  The bathroom was covered in mirrors as well, and had an extremely bright heat lamp coming out of the ceiling.  I immediately knew why these hotels are so popular.  FREE TANNING!  There was hair all over the sink as if a mammoth and a yeti got into a violent wrestling match.  The toiletries consisted of a small bar of hand soap, shampoo, and hand cream.  On the counter was a card which read: “Your room attendant was Mary, Thank you for not smoking.  We charge 20.00 for cleaning smoke from a Non-Smoking room.”  Aha! That explains it.  People that are willing to drop a fortune on cigarettes have no problem paying a measly 20.00 to be allowed to smoke in these rooms.  Imagine if our legal system worked that way?  “Hey, don’t kill that guy!  It will cost ya 50.00 in cleanup fees”. Now, the bathroom smelled like a mix of bleach, smoke, and some sort of rotten funk, to the point where I was afraid to look into the shower, in fear that I might find a crime scene lying in the tub.
  Now I’m not a religious man, but I do find it fascinating that the Gideon's place bibles in so many hotels. What didn’t surprise me was that someone found it necessary to draw a penis on the inside cover of THIS bible. This impromptu sketch triggered my need to go through every page of this bible, searching for more phallic graffiti. No such luck, and that morbidly curious portion of my soul was mildly disappointed. I sat there and wondered why someone would have drawn such a thing in a bible.  Did the artist have issues with all of Christianity or just the Gideons? Maybe the picture wasn't drawn in anger or ill-intent at all, but rather out of boredom.  Perhaps it wasn’t even a drawing of a penis, in fact when I turn it upside down it kinda looked like a dinosaur. Oh well, far be it from me to criticize the artist.