Monday, July 26, 2010

Wel-Come to the Cat Pee Inn!


Did you know that the majority of American motels/hotels are run by Indians of the not-so-Native-American variety?
Its a not yet proven fact!
This week I had the great misfortune pleasure of residing at one of these fine establishments for one night in what has to be the worst city in all of Alabama.
I picked what could have been the worst hotel/motel in the worst city.
I am such an idiot.
What would you feel like if you drove up to this?!

This place wasn't even named Days Inn!

Now if this doesn't look like a lobby out of a scary movie, I don't know what does.
(You can't see it from this blurry picture (that I snapped before somebody caught me!), but to the right and left are staircases that lead to the second floor.
All the way up those staircases are hanging baskets with vines growing, looping and weaving together.
Quite the atmosphere.)

I walked in the front door, nobody at the desk, my nose immediately assaulted by the smell of musty old cat pee.
I thought, "Wow. I'm staying in Hotel Haunted by myself tonight."
Then the nice man that runs the joint came 'round the corner.

He checked me in, led me down a dark scary hallway to (thankfully!) the first door on the left and opened it to let me in the room at which point I was certain he was about to shove me in the door and crack my skull open with the room's iron.

(I have never been afraid that I would be snatched up and murdered before this trip.
The whole time I was wondering if I'd ever make it back home the way I arrived in this terrible town.)

After I brought my bag in and made sure the room was safe I ventured out with my trusty borrowed GPS to find some cheap, bad, fast food for supper before I barricaded myself in my room for the night.

(There were people walking all over this city.
My car doors don't lock!
If my Popaw knew how unprotected I was he would have a fit!)

At the cheap, bad, fast food restaurant a little girl with hair in pigtails was standing at the counter.
I placed my order and the little girl patted me on the leg.
I smiled down at her and walked over to fix my drink.

My ice hits the bottom of the cup, a hand hits my butt!
That little munchkin had smacked me!

And she did it again!
Three times!
Her mama didn't do a thing, just stood at the counter.
I could have picked her up and put her in the car with me and nobody would have cared.
(Probably not, but doesn't everybody want to steal a baby at some point, just so you can take them home and teach them some manners?)
I made it back "home" and slept like a baby until six in the morning.
Despite my best efforts I never can sleep late.
I have an internal clock that never rests, not even on holidays.

Since I got up so early I had plenty of time to sit and reflect.
My room was so weird.

The bed and tv were shoved and crowded into one corner and a lonely desk had the rest of the room all to itself.
The feng needed shuiing.

Several hours of boredom later, I was driving around in circles and one way streets searching for free parking and giving ugly looks to parking meters.
Did you know those things don't have change return buttons?
I was sorely vexed.

Found my building, found my room, found the bathroom.
This bathroom was full of signage!
I've never seen so many instructions just to use the pot!

I felt like kicking a toilet after going arguing with a stupid parking meter!

So many directions just to use the bathroom!

I took my test in less than two minutes and I passed!
I was now a licensed funeral director and embalmer!
I left that city and got home just as fast as I illegally could!
I hope I never have to go back.

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