The Kidnapping Room

You've heard about the road trip, but I haven't shared the murder room story yet...



So, we stopped for the night in Texas and me being me (that means cheap)...well, I got online to find the best hotel deal.

I used Hotwire.com.

On their site you can choose a room at a discount but you don't know the hotel name.  It just gives you star levels and comparable hotel chains.  I've never been really disappointed and it's always been a great deal.

Well, this time we got screwed.  (Like bent over with no lube kind of screwed....)
Problem is, when you buy these rooms there is a no refund policy just because you don't like your room. That's the risk you take for a 1/2 price room I guess.

The shithole was so bad that we didn't even stay...we left and booked another room.

I didn't think I'd get my money back, but I wrote an email to Hotwire just in case.  I figured since I most likely wasn't  gonna get a refund  I'd at least have a good time with it.  The funny must have worked...I think I had the money back in my bank account in like 2 hours!!!

What follows is my letter to their complain department:

I wanted to take a minute to to give someone feedback on a hotel we booked last week.
We had a death in the family and were headed to Louisiana from Colorado. I booked a hot deal hotel room at the 2.5 star level. I've been a loyal Hotwire customer for the past few years and have never been disappointed until last weekend. Granted, I booked a 2.5 star accommodation so I wasn't expecting the Sheraton, but I was appalled by what I actually received. We received our confirmation of a room booked at the Baymont Inn and suites. First, I checked Travelocity and saw that the Baymont was ranked number 7 of 8...only above the motel 6. I calmed down and decided to base my opinion on the actual hotel when we arrived. I should have just cut my losses then and booked another hotel as the real thing was worse than the reviews.
Let me list what we found:
Upon entry the lobby smelt like the BO of 25 construction workers trapped in an elevator doing jazzersize for 3 days with no ac....and the dining room was connected to this stink pit.
I think the front desk gentleman spoke some sort of English, but I wasn't certain as he only mumbled while flinging my key across the desk. (I'll call him Raj since he didn't introduce himself or have a name tag.)
The desk was missing trim and coming off of the wall....but they did have a very pretty rug and some nice throw pillows.
Raj grunted and pointed me to my room. As we rounded the corner to park we solved the mystery of the jazzersise construction worker BO!
THERE THEY WERE! The construction workers with a hibachi grill on the front porch and their door wide open (I imagine for the fresh air..)
Before you get the wrong idea here I'm not profiling...I'm guessing construction workers because there were drywall sheets in the bed of the pick up and well...I have a construction worker husband. Setting up a grill on the front porch of his hotel room is totally something he would do...along with icing down beers in the bathtub.
Anyway, with that mystery solved it was on to the hotel room.
I had just run out of smokes...imagine my shock when I looked down and found at least 35 half smoked Butts to save my night (along with my nerves when I entered the 2.5 star room-o-crap)
Initially the key didn't work which I assume wasn't our lack of key knowledge.
Here, I must admit... im jumping to conclusions...

I didn't ask Raj but made that assumption based on the large amount of dents in both the door handle plate as well as the door itself, but to be fair it could have been a kidnapping escape situation and not a lock issue at all.
Moving on...
Upon entering the room I was impressed at the risk Raj had taken in his design. I might not agree with all over orange sherbet color with a teal accent wall, but it was definitely a statement.
The 1/2 gap between the door molding and the drywall was a little less inspiring, but that could have been a new addition attributed to the kidnapping incident which caused all of the door dents.
(There was also a hole in wall and some funky sink discoloration that I don't think can be attributed to the kidnapping but I think is still worth mentioning.)
Now at this point I didn't plan on staying there much less showering, but I had 2 toddlers in tow.
If you have kids you'll understand that little toddler butts cannot be tamed or scheduled. This brings me to the bathroom...
After attending nature we realized we had already touched multiple surfaces. Logic says we're clearly already suspects in the kidnapping case by fingerprints alone...we might as well suck it up, barricade the shoddy door and get some shut eye.
Here's where the construction worker hubby really ruined it for all of us...
See, even though he's down with hibachi grills in the front porch and might even contribute to the BO smells on a work trip one thing he cannot handle is non draining tub or cold showers.
Two things that he was greeted with upon trying out the shower.
Less concerning to him were the mystery splatter behind the door or the black hand prints on the bathroom door.
Now hopefully the hand prints were just from the plumber who was interrupted while trying to fix the drain when we barged in ( but maybe Raj could make a pass with the 409 get it handled.)
As for the mystery splatter...I'm going to imagine that someone before us was enjoying a nice chocolate sundae in the tub and being wet dropped it and it splattered. If not, tell Raj to have the CSI unit spray the luminal in the bathroom.
I hope you've enjoyed my recollection of the $90 shithole you sold me under the assumption that I was getting a 2.5 star hotel room that was equal to the LA Quinta because the only thing that is funny is my interpretation.
Now I know you don't necessarily know exactly what your selling but i figure its only fair to inform you that you got screwed as well. (I don't know about you, but I at least expect a nice dinner before getting fucked....another thing I didn't get)
I did spend another $100 to stay the night in the "comparable" LA Quinta. While we didn't get a good kidnapping saga we got an A+ room and I learned that those hot deals are more like flaming bag of poop. (I don't know why I used that analogy, but they're both pretty shitty)
If you would like pictures please don't hesitate to call me or email and if it's against your policy to refund for crappy rooms maybe you could consider it a tip for the most creative complaint email ever...either way it'd be pretty cool to see that $$ pop right back k into my bank account.

Thanks 
(not really - you kinda screwed me, but my English teacher used to tell us we had to close with something..."you suck" wasn't ever an option she gave us)

Ashley


Maybe funny worked....

I found the 7th Circle of Hell this weekend

...and it was located in  a Ford F-350 Super Duty

This is the space 5 of us shared for 3 hours

This weekend we made a trip up to Grand Lake, Colorado for my Dad's wedding.  (Which was amazing, and beautiful and made me wish we had brought kennels for the kids - I'll get to that later.  First, I need to start with my own personal version of hell.

For me, that's driving over any mountain pass (or bridge or hill really)  that has a steep drop and no wall to prevent me from driving off the cliff, rolling my vehicle 5000 times and being burnt alive in the gas fueled wreckage.

Seriously, that's where my head goes when we drive in the mountains.  (Here's a funny little side note...I live in Colorado.  Land of the fucking mountains.  Genius choice of residency right?)

Anyway, not only did we drive over a mountain pass we drove over Trail Ridge road.  It is my own personal hell like I said before.
 

Notice the shoulder on the road...

Here's an excerpt from the website:

"Whether they begin their journey at Estes Park or Grand Lake, Trail Ridge Road travelers climb some 4,000 feet in a matter of minutes. The changes that occur en route are fascinating to observe. A drive that may begin in montane forests of aspen and ponderosa pine soon enters thick subalpine forests of fir and spruce. At treeline, the last stunted, wind-battered trees yield to the alpine tundra.   

Up on that windswept alpine world, conditions resemble those found in the Canadian or Alaskan Arctic. It's normally windy and 20 to 30 degrees colder than Estes Park or Grand Lake. The sun beats down with high- ultraviolet intensity. The vistas, best enjoyed from one of several marked road pullovers, are extravagant, sweeping north to Wyoming, east across the Front Range cities and Great Plains, south and west into the heart of the Rockies."

In layman's terms that means you drive straight fucking up, encounter about 62 thousand switchbacks and 900 foot drop offs.  If you drive off of this bitch it isn't a leisurely roll to your death...you're gonna be rolling mach10 as you careen towards your fiery death.  (Oh yeah - there are NO shoulders on these roads either)

I drink while we're driving up the mountain.  By the time we hit treeline I'm "relaxed" enough to not cry or scream anytime my husband hits the breaks.  (I should probably look into a Xanax script for these excursions, but I'm too embarrassed to tell my doctor I'm a huge fucking baby who can't ride in the mountains)

I should also note that my husband has lived in Colorado for his ENTIRE life and has driven these mountains since he was 16 and is an excellent driver.  My fear is totally illogical but it's there none the less.

Now that you have an insight into my mood at the onset of our trip let me continue...


In our infinite wisdom we decided to take the truck on this 3 hour journey, not the Escalade that is the size of a bus and has a DVD player.  (I don't even have an explanation for that thought process)

Having a two and three year old in a vehicle for more than 15 minutes is bad enough, but having them in a vehicle, within reach of each other, for three hours and less than 6 inches away from the back of your own head  is enough to drive Santa Claus out of his damn mind...

The first 15 minutes were ok, then we got snacks....
While that seemed like a good idea, inevitably someone (the boy terrorist) dropped their snacks 28 fucking times.  Meaning I had to unbuckle, contort myself over the seat and under the car-seat to retrieve lost snack 28 fucking times.  I drew the line at time 29.

Of course there is always one slow eater (Tiny terrorist).
Boy terrorist looks over and is immediately convinced that tiny terrorist must have gotten a larger bag with more snacks.  Boy terrorist proceeds to cry and try to steal tiny terrorists bag of snacks causing tiny terrorists to have a full blown melt down.  (Have I mentioned this is all happening about 4 inches behind my head?)

We convince tiny terrorist to share (we actually distract her and steal the snacks).  Give more to boy terrorist and settle in for our trip.

We have a good 30 minutes of ride time and are just entering the park (Rocky Mountain National Park) when boy terrorists needs to pee. I take boy terrorist out to pee and in true terrorist style he decides to get creative while he pees along side of the road.  As he's bouncing and gyrating he's also peeing on his pants and shoes.  (Remember, I'm "relaxed" so I find this hysterical - until later when I have to clean the shoes and pants)

Back in the truck and it's calm and quiet for the next hour...I should have known it was too good to be true then and there...

Just as we're getting off the pass (and my sphincter is relaxing) big brings to our attention that tiny terrorist is puking...all over herself....and the car seat.  Awesome.
Pull over again.  Commence clean-up.
Have you ever tried to clean up vomit with a baby wipe?  Pour a can of chicken noodle soup on the floor and try to clean it with a sock...It's about like that.

Thank god we were only 20 minutes or so from the condo.
We made it there and settled in with minimal pain.  The kids actually settled in and played with each other and were very cute and Norman Rockwell-ish.  In fact, we were reminded why we haven't sold them on the black market like we keep threatening to do.

I want to keep them when they act like this

The wedding was Sunday afternoon and semi-painless.  The kids were fairly well behaved and only tried to climb into the river a few times.  Boy terrorist insisted on making atrocious faces in 90% of the pictures.  Everyone seemed to think it was hilarious and I was preparing for the drive down (drinking) so we just let him be.

This was the face of the day....

The drive down was about the same minus the vomit, but at least we were prepared for it.


I'm still not sure how we didn't realize that a 3 hour drive in an extended cab truck was a shitty idea, but I'm positive that if my husband ever suggests it again I'm going to  poke him in the eye with a stick.

Oh - congrats to my Dad and his beautiful new bride Susan!

Thank you for putting up with the us on your special day!!!