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    Because complaining about stuff shouldn't be limited to the elderly


    The cheapest hotel, petty justice ('Nerd style!), and giving it your best
    Wednesday, March 29, 2006

    As a piece of meat that is frequently abused by females for their physical pleasures, I've seen my share of hotel rooms. Okay...I lied about the first part--but I have stayed in many different hotels. I was out of town this weekend and since fighting with homeless over park benches is rarely worth it, I found myself checking into a hotel.

    There's very little I expect in life--I'm not exactly a caviar and lobster kinda guy. However, there are certain expectations I have in life. One of which is I like to get the most bang for my buck--I absolutely hate getting cheated out of something. I've stayed in cheap, flea-ridden roach motels before and as disgusting as they are, at least those hotels make no attempt to hide what they were (hell, you get what you pay for).

    But the hotel I stayed at this weekend was completely different. This hotel had to have been the cheapest, most frugal run hotels in the country. It was frustrating because this hotel wasn't cheap and it tried to pass itself off as a nice, comfortable place to stay. I'm not gonna mention its name because I don't have the budget to ward off another libel suit. Let's just say it was a national chain with quality control and services (supposedly). The room contained two beds, a kitchen, dishwasher, microwave, plates, and silverware. Sounds like a fabulous place, right? Sure, if you don't mind staying at a place that skimped on every corner.

    When I stay at a hotel, I always decline the housecleaning service. I don't like it 'cause I'm usually staying for only a few days and don't really want anyone else in my room (plus, they always tuck the blankets in too tight when they make the bed). But at Frugal Stay Hotel, housekeeping isn't including with the nightly rate. If you wanna get someone up to clean your room, it's an extra $10 per cleaning. That totally pissed me off. Even though I don't use the service, I found it insulting that a hotel charged you extra to get Guadalupe up to your room and empty my trash can.

    The hotel was also clearly understaffed. Calls to the front desk frequently went unanswered. Waiting for a clerk in the lobby routinely took ten minutes. And the hotel hallways had trash sitting outside the door from residents who didn't pay for the housekeeping service.

    And did they skimp! Remember the hotel room had dishes and a dishwasher. However, dish soap wasn't included. Dirty glasses couldn't immediately be cleaned and had to be stowed in the dishwasher. But when the dishwasher filled up, I couldn't run it because dishwasher soap wasn't included either. A quick inspection of the bathroom revealed a lack of soap and shampoo there, too. This was baffling and irritating: what's the point of kitchenware if I couldn't clean it? I wanted blood and stormed over to the front desk. After waiting 15 minutes for a clerk, I was informed that those items were available only "upon request."

    Now for those of you who know me, you know damn well I don't like when anyone tries to pull a fast one or cheat me out of what's rightfully mine. Since this cheap hotel was screwing guests out of accommodations that most hotels provide (we bought a bottle of shampoo before realizing the front desk had them), I felt it was my duty to claim what others missed out on. Every time I left or returned to the hotel, I made it a point to swing by the front desk and ask for some shampoo, soap, dish soap, and dishwasher fluid. I came home with about ten pounds of the stuff, but at least this way I left not feeling like I got screwed.

    Nobody screws with me. If you try to go cheap with me, I'm gonna squeeze you for far more than if you just offered in the first place.



    There's one last thing I wanna say about my trip (it's really not all that interesting, but what the hey). My cronies wanted to play a little touch-football in the parking lot. I really didn't want to--I'm not good at playing casual sports. It's not that I feel like a I hafta win (losing doesn't bother me); it's just that I don't know how to turn it off. I can't play sports half-assed--I know it. I'm motivated and driven about very few things in life, but there's something about sports that brings out some sorta super effort and motivation. I cannot play sports unless I know I gave it my all--even if it's just blacktop football.

    This is most evident in our asphalt football game when I was thrown a pass that was slightly out of my range and I instinctively dove for it.

    Or maybe I tripped. I dunno...diving for it makes a cooler story (actually, catching the ball would make it a cooler story, but that's neither here nor there). What isn't cool is that I fell to the ground and left a good deal of skin from my arms and hands somewhere on the Arizona asphalt.

    Man, one of these days I really gotta grow up and do what's best for my body. I'm getting older now; things hurt more and take longer to heal.

    Seeya.

    © 2006 siknerd.com



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