Twenty Things That Drive Me Crazy About Staying in Hotels

Each of the past ten years, I’ve spent an average of 120 days and just as many sleepless nights staying in hotels.  For the math-challenged, that adds up to about 1,200 nights, equal to three-and-a-half years of my life.

I know something about hotels and now wish to share some things that drive me crazy.

I once thought of traveling and being out on the road as glamorous.  Trust me, it isn’t.  The mirage of sleeping in luxury and eating in expensive restaurants is just that — an illusion.  A pretend life.  No business-class airfare or fancy hotel room makes up for being absent from loved ones or missing the comfort of your own bed following a home-cooked meal.

Over the years, I’ve stayed just about everywhere, from dive motels to presidential suites in the city’s best hotels.  After a while, they all begin to look alike, except for the occasional gunfire and dried-out vomit plastered in the hallway.  Then again, after a few drinks, Atlantic City isn’t all that bad.

Just like Bob Seger’s poignant song lyrics from Turn the Page, the traveler’s trials and tribulations all become music from the amplifiers, ringing in your head.  On the road again, hotels look all the same.  On the road again, food tastes the same.  On the road again, even the people serving you with plastic smiles are as predictable as they are interchangeable, from one city to the next.  Turn the page.

Here area dozen 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 things (so far) about staying in hotels sure to drive you/me crazy:

(1)  No early check-in — Ever been to a restaurant full of empty tables, but there’s still a long wait to get seated?  That’s the way I look at checking into big chain hotels.  I understand they don’t want guests showing up early in the morning and getting what amounts to a day-and-a-half stay.  But shouldn’t a guest be entitled to 24 hours?  Not 16 hours.  Not 12 hours.  A full day.  Out of hundreds of hotel rooms, can’t just a few be set aside for early arrivals?

(2)  Disappearing bellhops — Why don’t bellhops ever seem to be around when they’re most needed?  Like when after a nine-hour flight my two suitcases weigh fifty pounds each and it’s 2:30 am?  But sure enough, bellhops are always around to guilt-trip tokes out of guests when you don’t need them.

(3)  Rooms next to the elevator — This is torture.  I’ve had the cruel misfortune of being stuck next to the elevator before, which goes “bing” 185 times a night right outside my door, making it impossible to sleep longer than five minutes before waking up again.  Worse, elevators mean that people have to wait, which means they talk, and sometimes they even argue.  I’ve been jostled out of bed more than a few times by loud arguments and even fights.  Even more frustrating is when I peek through the tiny hole in the door, to try and see what’s going on.  I want to see who’s winning the fight, but can’t — so all my rubbernecking entertainment value is gone.

(4)  Rooms next to the ice machine — More fucking torture.  Here’s what you hear when your hotel room is next to the ice machine:  Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  Crash!  (20 minutes later)….Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  Crash!  (20 minutes later)…Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  Crash!  (20 minutes later)….the door opens, followed by a SLAM!  The door opens again, SLAM!  After filling up the ice bucket, why do drunks always have to slam the goddamned door?  Doesn’t matter if it’s 3 am.  No courtesy at all.  This goes on all night.  Even when drunks aren’t around, ice machines are constantly in the “fill” mode.  Every 20 minutes ice forms and then haphazardly “crashes” into the metal bin.  It’s like sleeping next to a demolition job.

(5)  Rooms next to the vending machine — This is the worst torture of all.  Here’s what you hear all night:  (Coins dropping) cling, cling, cling, cling….(rumbling sound), CRASH!  Seconds later, some dimwit dipshit struggles to reach his arm inside the plastic door and remove the stale candy, which is stuck on one of those hooks.  More loud crashing, followed by cursing.  Fuck!  Fuck!  This goes on all night long.

(6)  Room temperature — When it comes to temperature, hotel rooms are just about always one of two things — either too hot or too cold.  It’s either 64 degrees or 83 degrees.  Nothing in between.  Management makes it more frustrating by making the thermostats impossible to figure out.  I think this is intentional so they save on electricity.

(7)  The soap — This week I’m staying at a Radisson Hotel.  My bathroom soap is something that’s labeled “Mandarin Yuzu.”  It smells just like a tangerine.  Hey, people, I want to take a shower and end up smelling like a man — not a fucking fruit salad.  Got it?

(8)  More about the soap — Why is hotel soap made the size of a Russell Stover chocolate?  You know, like out of the box?  It’s bad enough they jizz up the soap with a cheap perfume smell.  But then, the bar barely covers any skin at all.  And I can’t wash my hair with soap.  For this reason, I’ve started traveling with my own bar of soap — either Irish Spring or Lava.  No primp-ass soap.  Real man soap.  I want an industrial soap that cuts grime and grease from my body, not make me sell like a bouquet of fucking flowers.  I’m not some potted plant.

(9)  The perpetual towel shortage — I need at least six body towels.  Every single day.  Plus hand towels and washcloths.  Three towels are needed each time I take a shower.  I shower twice daily — once in the morning and once right before bed.  One towel goes around my waist.  Another towel hangs around my shoulders.  The third towel dries my hair and face.  Once they’re sopping wet, they don’t dry out in time to be re-used later in the day.  That’s three towels, times two, which is six in all.  Note to the maid:  Leave me six towels daily, or you’re not getting a two-buck tip.

(10)  Ridiculously-expensive refrigerator snacks — Who the hell eats the ghastly shit barnacled inside the hotel room refrigerator?  You know, the faux vault shaped like an icebox with $8 packages of M&Ms, $9 orange juices, and the $10 (domestic) beer.  Seriously, $10 for a fucking Miller Lite?  It’s sick enough they have Miller Lite as the only beer choice.  But ten bucks a whack?  I’ve been desperate enough to pilfer the fridge more than a few times.  Trouble is, once you devour that mini-can of Pringles, then you end up binging on junk food.  That bargain $79 room deal you booked on Orbitz ends up costing $195 a night after the tax, miscellaneous charges, and a five-course meal with all the trimmings out of the refrigerator.

(11)   Shit coffee — You know those complimentary coffee pouches and free tea bags next to the plastic coffee maker (which always seems to overflow and spill all over the countertop when you hit the ON switch)?  Request:  Can we get coffee and tea that hasn’t been sitting there for 20 years?  The last place I stayed had tea bags that were so old the white paper had turned yellow.  Sorry, but tea bags should not look like the Declaration of Independence.

(12)  Paper thin walls — Why do I get assigned to a hotel room right to the honeymooners in the next suite with the female who blows out my eardrums with four screaming orgasms a night?  I will say one thing — it sure makes me want to see the stud with all the talent.  A favorite memory was once when I overheard a contentious negotiation in the next room between guest and hooker, haggling over the price of various sexual favors.  I admit that it was tempting to tap on the wall and hear if she had any 2 for 1 special available.

(13)  Uncomfortable beds — Hotel beds are either like plywood or bean bag chairs, either too firm or too soft.  Oddly enough, there’s no correlation whatsoever between bed comfort and the hotel room price.  I’ve enjoyed great nights of sleep in cheap motels and tossed and turned and awaken with nagging backaches in places that cost $400 bucks a night.

(14)  Leave the fucking drapes alone!  I can’t stand it when maids fuck with the drapes.  This drives me insane!  It usually takes me quite a while to get the drapes to close all the way.  They always seem to be about an inch too short when it comes to the drapes closing all the way.  So, the sun blasts through the glass the next morning, usually hitting my face.  After tugging on the drapes enough, they’ll usually close and stay shut.  Trouble is, when the maid comes in and cleans the room, they’re instructed to yank open the drapes again.  So, you have to come back in and spend another 15 minutes doctoring the fucking drapes in order to get a good night’s sleep.  Quit jerking around with the drapes!  Leave the fucking drapes alone!  I closed them for a reason!

(15)  Early-bird maids — Here’s what I don’t want to hear at 6:30 am:  Knock, knock knock….”maid service.”  Knock, knock, knock….”Maid service”….CLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK — DOOR OPENS.  Then, I discover someone in the hallway stole my DO NOT DISTURB doorknob hanger.  After that, there’s the noisy vacuum cleaner that magically gets fired up like a Harley-Davidson at 7 am and blasts away for the next four hours while I’m trying to sleep off a hangover.  How come I always get the maid who won “Employee of the Month” and vacuums the shit out of the carpet like it’s an Olympic event?  And must she always bang the fucking walls?  Brrrrrrrrrrrrr…bam!  Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr…bam!  Brrrrrrrrrrrrr….bam!  That’s the typical early morning hotel experience.

(16)  Pillow re-arrangement — Once I’ve taken the initiative to remove the extra pillows from the closet and also busted the pillows off the second (unused) bed, that gives me at least five or six pillows for my personal pleasure.  Notice — I need a minimum of five pillows in order to sleep.  Two on each side of me, which makes four.  Then, one for my head and neck.  Finally, if I have an extra pillow, I can rest it between my feet so my lower limbs are pampered properly.  So, when the maid comes in and sees six pillows primped all over the bed like it’s an eagle’s nest, she should probably figure out I have special needs.  Instead, the maid ruins it all.  She packs away the pillows back into the closet and dresses the second bed EVEN THOUGH I HAVE CLEARLY NOT USED IT.  Leave my fucking pillows alone!

(17)  Room service — It doesn’t matter what hotel I check into.  If I call up room service at 11:02, the kitchen closes at 11.  If I call up room service at 2:05 am, the kitchen closes at 2.  When room service is actually available, it always seems to take 90 minutes to get a delivery, then the food is lukewarm, and they messed up something on the order (good luck sending it back).  I’ve had more $ 60-midnight snacks than I can count, which were horrible.

(18)  Lamps and light switches that have no rhyme or reason — Nice hotels usually have several lamps scattered all over the room.  But you can never figure out which wall switch controls what lamp.  Since I keep the drapes closed, I need light in the room.  Trying to hunt for the light switch becomes impossible.  Then, the lamps often have hidden knobs.  If I stay somewhere more than a week, I usually unscrew the bulbs and leave myself access to just one lamp.  That’s enough.  That leaves the next guest thinking there’s a power failure.

(19)  The half-ass hair dryer that barely works — I realize thieves steal hair dryers, so they have to buy cheap replacements.  But can I please get a working hairdryer that fires enough warm air to blow out a match?  Please?

(20)  In-room check-out — Most hotels allow guests to check the current bill by television.  You can even check-out and leave keys on the desk, then depart.  Trouble is, I always seem to have some problem that demands my immediate attention.  So, I fiddle with a filthy germ-ridden television remote for 20 minutes, only to get an error message:  YOU CANNOT CHECK OUT AT THE TIME — SEE FRONT DESK FOR AN IMPORTANT MESSAGE

ADDING:

(21)  Car parking fees — One might think a $195-per-night hotel room would entitle the guest to one complimentary parking spot.  Hell no!  They figure if you’re willing to fork out a buck ninety-five to sleep perhaps six hours between dinging elevators and noisy ice machines, they can ass jam you for another $15 for parking.

(22)  USA Today — Does anyone buy or read this newspaper?  The only place I ever see it anymore is inside the hotel lobby, and it’s always free.  The complimentary restaurant guides are gone before the USA Today rack is empty.

(23)  Alarm clocks set to the wrong time — Never trust a hotel room clock.  When they’re not constantly flashing “12:00,” clocks next to the bed are often wrong.  They’re completely unreliable.

(24)  Water that looks free, but isn’t — Bastard hotels.  They set out bottles of good water, and make them seem complimentary.  Then, at checkout, you learn those 79-cent bottles cost $7 a whack.  Total bullshit.

That’s all I can think of for now.  So what did I miss?