Looking back,I should have set fire to that dump of a place!
Posted on 06/02/2010 9:44:07 PM PDT by george76
Staying in a bad motel can ruin your trip in seconds. All it takes is one little bug or a nasty set of sheets to suck the awesomeness right out of your little getaway. Luckily, there are ways to tell if you are staying at the wrong place.
1. The mattresses are wrapped in plastic.
2. The hotel ‘restaurant’ is really a biker bar.
4. The windows have bars.
5. The lamps, TV, alarm clock, or any other loose item is chained down or bolted to the table.
7. They have an hourly rate.
(Excerpt) Read more at daily.likeme.net ...
Its worse inside, at least it was then. I saw a news report on TV about its roof being blown off in a storm. I noticed they were vigilant about not showing the neighbors. lol.
Good luck!
A holler is the dialect for hollow. In the Applachian regions you had the higher ground and then you had hollers, lower real estate. Butcher Holler, was probably a holler in which the butcher in the area made his home.
“Mother’s not quite herself today.”
Can I please be the first to say it....EEWWWWW.
I don’t need much out of a motel. I recall after one long field day out in the cold and rain we found a motel and my boss said “I hope you’re not picky”. I replied as long as I could take a hot shower I’d be fine.
I ran the water for 10 minutes and it was still reddish brown! Decided changing into dry clothes was good enough!
Yes, a diploma in motel management can be your passport to prosperity, independence, and security, but are you motel material? Let’s find out with a simple quiz.
Question 1: A guest loses the key to her room. Would you
A) Give her a duplicate key
B) Let her in with your passkey
C) Hack her to death with a kitchen knife
Question 2: Which of the following is the most important in running a successful motel?
A) Cordial atmosphere
B) Courteous service
C) Hack ker to death with a kitchen knife
Question 3: How many.. [ holds newspaper over his mouth, and speaks in an old lady’s voice ] Important phone call, Norman. [ puts down newspaper, resumes regular voice ] What, Mother? [ puts newspaper over his mouth again ] Important phone call! [ puts newpaper down, and resumes normal voice ] Well, I’ve got to go, I have an important phone call! Just one of dozens I get every week as a fully-qualified motel manager. And if you would like to beome one, too, simply send your name and address to “The Norman Bates School of Motel Management, Old Highway, Fairvale, California..”
[ suddenly becomes nervous and shaky ]
There’s no obligation whatsoever.. and-and-and no salesman will call.. so-so y-y-y-y-you don’t have to b-b-bo-bother to lock your door, you know-you can-you can leave it off the latch. Or lock it! That’s fine, I don’t care! I don’t care if you lock it, ‘cause I have the keys! [ jiggles the keys nervously ] I have the keys right here! I have the key to Room 1, the key to Room 2, the key to Room 3.. [ hits bell, holds newspaper to mouth, and speaks in old lady’s voice again ] Norman! [ resumes normal voice ] Coming, Mother. [ throws newspaper down and runs out door ]
Ya know, it never occurred to me that they weren’t joking. lol I’m pure Kentucky...but eastern KY is a whole other mindset.
The owner’s name is “Patel.”
Wait, that disqualifies almost all the motels in the US.
Pink champagne on ice...
Speaking of California, way back in 1980 I was scheduled to take a real estate broker’s written exam. At the time, I was living in Santa Barbara and the test was scheduled early in the morning in downtown Los Angeles.
I decided to stay overnight in L.A. The guy who was the head of the real estate school in Santa Barbara recommended a motel in downtown L.A. not far from the testing location.
I drove to L.A. the night before the test, and when I arrived in downtown L.A. I was disgusted when I saw what a dump this motel was. I didn’t get much sleep that night....the sound of cars roaring past the motel made that nearly impossible. To top it off, a couple of drunk Mexican guys were drinking outside the door of my motel room, loudly talking and every so often they would drop a bottle of booze on the cement walkway, and I was treated to the sound of breaking glass every so often.
I failed the real estate test, but I passed it when I tried the second time, which was the day after Ronald Reagan was elected president for his first term.
I’m so sad now. I came to love The Gobbler. Then to just lose it like that. So suddenly, and without notice.
*sniff*
I worked a few months in Eastern Kentucky as a pharmacist. The area is quite beautiful and dirt poor. The people are nice. Some of the people are strange, very strange. I could tell you tales about forged prescriptions that would make you laugh your ass off and some that would scare the hell out of you.
I’ve STAYED in the worst hotel. It was in New Smyrna, FL. Deep piled shag infested with fleas, shower that wouldn’t drain and had gray liquid coming out, friend woke up with 4 inch cockroach on his shoulder, “clean” sheets that had holes and come stains on them, bikers having a party 2 doors down, doors that were hollow and opened outward. We asked for our money back and found a hotel in Daytona. Ahhhh, to be young and naive and on spring break in the 80’s.
I would LOVE to hear your stories. I could really use a laugh these days.
There are some desperately poor folks there, but it also isn’t uncommon to see a shack perched on the side of a hill that looks as though it wouldn’t last through a gentle breeze...but there’s a Corvette in the driveway and a satellite dish on a nearby tree.
I woke up with mice crawling on me in a motel in Portales, NM. I had to keep the light on to keep them away.
But nicer hotels have their problems too. I had to change rooms at a Holiday Inn in San Francisco because the couple next door were loudly boinking all night long.
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