Yes, your honor, there was a bug in my soup

I spent the last weekend out-of-town with my children’s robotics team.  Two other moms and myself were in charge of making sure the kids ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  After lunch on the first day, we always go check into the hotel so that we don’t have to do it with a bunch of tired kids misbehaving in the lobby while we wait for seven rooms to be assigned.  I don’t believe there is a more destructive force than nerdy robotics children who understand calculus and physics waiting for a hotel room – you only make that mistake once . . . and that’s another blog.

We had some trouble with making the reservations. The school decided we were spending too much money on rooms and made us move to a cheap motel.  I try to behave myself with folks I don’t know well and the other two moms come under this category.  As we were driving to the motel, I noticed the area got shabbier and shabbier.  There were seedy bars and some “women” who may or may not have been hookers.  I didn’t say anything, I was determined to “not be me”.  While one of the other moms was dealing with the front desk, I walked the few feet over to the “included” breakfast section.  I was handsomely greeted by a cockroach and a plastic tower of stale cereal.  And still, I said NOTHING.  I mean, I said “Look, there’s a cockroach.”  But I did not say “Nothing on earth could cause me to stay here.”  Which is what I wanted to say but I swore to Ed I’d behave and “not be me”.

A formally “white” towel

When we were done, we decided we’d better have a gander at the rooms.  We drove around to the back and found this. Yes, you’re seeing it correctly.  That’s a mattress in the parking lot.  I’m not sure if a guest asked for an al fresco sleeping arrangement or if they were trying something new.

***PS*** Amylynn here – When I received the first picture of the mattress via text, I started packing up my computer and gathering my things from my desk assuming the very next text would be her request to come fetch her 100 miles away. Seriously. Ava has standards, regardless of the fact that she grew up in New Jersey. Back to Ava.

I swear, at this point, I’m still “not being me” as in I wasn’t shrieking yet.  The rooms were pretty much what you’d expect after meeting Mr. Cockroach and finding a mattress outside.  Each had the required mold and grey – used to be white – towels set off rather nicely by dilapidated furnishings.  I can’t even describe the fruity disinfectant cleaner smell.

Possibly velociraptors stayed her previously?

Here’s where I became “me”.  “We are not staying here.  Get back in the car, ladies.”  One of them suggested that we’d already paid and couldn’t get a refund.  I think she meant it.  I assured her I’d make sure we got all of our money back.  Which we did.  By the time I was done, we’d also received an apology.

The funny thing is, I didn’t take the pictures for this blog or in case I needed them to dispute any charges with the credit card company – I took them to defend myself when Judge Ed gave me the “You just had to be you.” look.

***PPS*** Amylynn again. I want it noted here that I learned something very interesting about my Sister during this crisis. She knows what an hourly hotel smells like and likened this hotel to one. My eyebrows went up but I did not inquire as to her intimate knowledge. I figured it was best not to poke the bear.