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Midnight Motel Madness
Sep. 3rd, 2015 10:11 pmOh, where do I begin?
Kukla, why did you need a Motel?
Since my S.O. is still in the Rehabilitation Facility (see: Halfway House), seeing him still requires quite a drive. On a good day, with no traffic and the wind behind me, I can make it there in about an hour and a half. I usually try to budget two hours, though, because if there is any construction or weirdness (or weather) it takes significantly more time.
He had an interview today, and it was kind of an important one, too. My father's cousins are professional electricians, and he put in a word for my S.O. (as his Son in Law). This is the kind of career opportunity that feeds itself (and us.) Best case scenario; He gets hired right away and gets to come home. He gets on-the-job training while the company pays for his schooling, or part of it.
So there was a lot riding on this interview. He set it up for 9am.
Which means picking him up around 7am, more or less.
Which means getting on the road by 5:30, more or less.
Um.
No.
So instead, I decided to drive to Farmington (or thereabouts) last night, to spend the night in comfort and be mere minutes away when I needed to pick him up.
After all, I had to work today until 9pm. It was going to be a long day either way.
"So you go rent a hotel room. Big deal."
Ah, my gentle readers. Hotels are *expensive.* I just *lost my house*. I needed something much more budget-minded than a $100 per night hotel room.
Motels, on the other hand, can be very reasonable. I'm not looking for luxury and vacation; I need a place to crash for a few hours.
On the way in to Farmington, there's this seedy roadside motel called the Red Cedar Lodge. I'm not exaggerating when I describe this place as being a likely backdrop for a horror film. It's right off of 67, except that I've not figured out how to actually get *to* it, other than to "drive off the road." It advertises rooms starting at 29.00 per night, which probably means a smoking single with only one person in it, during the off season, when the manager is in a good mood. I considered this place nearly every time I've had to get up a OH DARK THIRTY to drive for two hours and then pick up my love.
But the internet affords us information, and I wanted to see how it stacked up. Keep in mind that I've stayed in places that got shitty reviews. Half the fun of reading a review is to read between the lines. "This place was awful. The service was terrible. TV didn't work right. Towels sucked." Translation: "We usually stay at a Marriot Courtyard, and there wasn't one to be found. No one pampered us, the TV only had local channels, and they only gave us a towel, a washcloth, and a hand towel."
However, the reviews for the Red Cedar Lodge included phrases such as, "Drug use", "Addicts", "Bedbugs", and "Filthy."
These are BAD SIGNS.
And upon reflection, I realized that "Staying at the Red Cedar Lodge" sounds like a euphemism for "Having one's Menstrual Period."
"Hey buddy, thanks for coming out. Where's the wife?"
"Aw, she had to go stay at the RED CEDAR LODGE, knowwhatimean?"
So I dug around and found the name of another roadside motel that seemed slightly classier. It was called the Rosener's Motel, and bragged of having a pool. Yeah, ok. I look online and their cheapest room looks to be about $40.
I can make that work.
Plus it's slightly closer to actual Farmington, and the online reviews seem cheerful.
I call.
I get a teenager on the phone who assures me that the double-rooms are $40 plus tax, and that they have plenty of them. I try to reserve one, and am told that they're only taking walk-ins.
Oh, but they drained the pool today.
Hmm. Well, I wasn't likely to arrive much before midnight, so I was less worried about the pool.
In fact, after attending to all my in town stuff, I did pull up to the motel around midnight. Sitting out in front was a young lady fooling around on her netbook. (Ah, looks like the WiFi might not be stellar. Oh, well.) I walked into the lobby and talked to a woman who reminded me remarkably of my S.O.'s ex wife, who lives in the area. For a brief second I thought it was actually her. So my husband's ex's doppleganger smiles and asks me how she can help me.
I explain that I want a cheap room for the night and she asks me what kind of room I want.
As it happens, the only $40 rooms are smoking rooms.
The next size "up" (a queen) is $50.
Cue some grumbling.
"Well, this is going to sound nuts but, can I go 'sniff' the room?"
She grinned at me, and handed me two keys. "Sure, hon. These two are right next to each other. You let me know which one you want, Ok?"
Couldn't be simpler, right?
And you KNOW that Kukla never takes a room without inspecting it first. I've been given rooms that had bugs scatter when I turned on the light, a room that was full of people and pot smoke, and rooms that were not what they were supposed to be (where is the other bed?)
I check out 127: This room is not clean.
The bedclothes are rumpled, the lights are on, and there's literally chunks of dirt on the floor. And random change.
No.
I check out 128: This room is not safe.
The light does not go on. I pull the curtain to discover that the bed has been disassembled, and is leaned up against the wall. There are lamps, end tables, and assorted other furniture odds and ends stacked in like cordwood.
No.
I returned the keys and explained what I found.
Doppleganger gets annoyed, though not at me. "I'm sorry, hon. They're making me look bad. Here, let's try this one instead."
I check out 103: This room is most certainly storage.
The light does not go on. I now know what this means. A second glance confirms tons of equipment and furniture stacked on top of the stripped mattress.
Yeah.... no.
I return the key and report my findings.
She gives me a kind of a weird look, like she'd found some treasure and isn't sure she can tell me about it. "Ok, this is the last room I have available. A manager stayed in it last night, so I know it's ok. She holds the key like it's precious. "It's the Jacuzzi suite."
I raise an eyebrow.
"It's normally $79, but I'll only charge you the 49.99 for the queen room."
I raise the other eyebrow.
"Assuming it's ok."
I took the key.
I check out room 100: This room is pretty sweet.
Large, for a motel room. Large for a HOTEL room, in fact. I could seriously throw a party in there. Lots of diffuse lighting, and sure enough a Jacuzzi tub that seems really new and really nice.
"I'll take it."
She gives me some towels, though I'm not stupid: If I know that I'll be staying in a MOtel, I bring my own towels.
So that's how I wound up in the Jacuzzi suite, mere minutes from my beloved, for a very reasonable price.
I texted him to let him know I landed safely. Mentioned the suite. Asked, "Should I check out before I come to pick you up?"
I filled up the jacuzzi and indulged myself in some bubbles courtesy of Lush, music from the Ipad, and washed my hair.
I'll tell you; I didn't sleep especially well. The bed was comfortable enough, but once the room cooled down sufficiently, it was dry as a bone and I know I was snoring. My throat and chest hurt.
However, my alarm went off and I got up to go. He had texted me back, "I think I know you better than that."
Clever boy.
He always was such a clever boy.
Check out is 11am.
So I picked him up on time, and we went back to my little Jacuzzi Suite.
*scene missing*
He helped me load up the car and was rewarded with a fresh peach from the Schnuck's sale bin.
We got him to his interview (right in the heart of The Hill), and I cruised around the Tower Grove area peeking at some of the properties for rent.
We went to lunch and he says that the interview went well. He should hear back from them the beginning of next week.
Pho grand is delicious as always.
I was able to get him back to the facility in time to get me back into the city to meet my customer for her class at 3.
Then I worked until 9pm.
Long day.
Fun adventure.
Kukla, why did you need a Motel?
Since my S.O. is still in the Rehabilitation Facility (see: Halfway House), seeing him still requires quite a drive. On a good day, with no traffic and the wind behind me, I can make it there in about an hour and a half. I usually try to budget two hours, though, because if there is any construction or weirdness (or weather) it takes significantly more time.
He had an interview today, and it was kind of an important one, too. My father's cousins are professional electricians, and he put in a word for my S.O. (as his Son in Law). This is the kind of career opportunity that feeds itself (and us.) Best case scenario; He gets hired right away and gets to come home. He gets on-the-job training while the company pays for his schooling, or part of it.
So there was a lot riding on this interview. He set it up for 9am.
Which means picking him up around 7am, more or less.
Which means getting on the road by 5:30, more or less.
Um.
No.
So instead, I decided to drive to Farmington (or thereabouts) last night, to spend the night in comfort and be mere minutes away when I needed to pick him up.
After all, I had to work today until 9pm. It was going to be a long day either way.
"So you go rent a hotel room. Big deal."
Ah, my gentle readers. Hotels are *expensive.* I just *lost my house*. I needed something much more budget-minded than a $100 per night hotel room.
Motels, on the other hand, can be very reasonable. I'm not looking for luxury and vacation; I need a place to crash for a few hours.
On the way in to Farmington, there's this seedy roadside motel called the Red Cedar Lodge. I'm not exaggerating when I describe this place as being a likely backdrop for a horror film. It's right off of 67, except that I've not figured out how to actually get *to* it, other than to "drive off the road." It advertises rooms starting at 29.00 per night, which probably means a smoking single with only one person in it, during the off season, when the manager is in a good mood. I considered this place nearly every time I've had to get up a OH DARK THIRTY to drive for two hours and then pick up my love.
But the internet affords us information, and I wanted to see how it stacked up. Keep in mind that I've stayed in places that got shitty reviews. Half the fun of reading a review is to read between the lines. "This place was awful. The service was terrible. TV didn't work right. Towels sucked." Translation: "We usually stay at a Marriot Courtyard, and there wasn't one to be found. No one pampered us, the TV only had local channels, and they only gave us a towel, a washcloth, and a hand towel."
However, the reviews for the Red Cedar Lodge included phrases such as, "Drug use", "Addicts", "Bedbugs", and "Filthy."
These are BAD SIGNS.
And upon reflection, I realized that "Staying at the Red Cedar Lodge" sounds like a euphemism for "Having one's Menstrual Period."
"Hey buddy, thanks for coming out. Where's the wife?"
"Aw, she had to go stay at the RED CEDAR LODGE, knowwhatimean?"
So I dug around and found the name of another roadside motel that seemed slightly classier. It was called the Rosener's Motel, and bragged of having a pool. Yeah, ok. I look online and their cheapest room looks to be about $40.
I can make that work.
Plus it's slightly closer to actual Farmington, and the online reviews seem cheerful.
I call.
I get a teenager on the phone who assures me that the double-rooms are $40 plus tax, and that they have plenty of them. I try to reserve one, and am told that they're only taking walk-ins.
Oh, but they drained the pool today.
Hmm. Well, I wasn't likely to arrive much before midnight, so I was less worried about the pool.
In fact, after attending to all my in town stuff, I did pull up to the motel around midnight. Sitting out in front was a young lady fooling around on her netbook. (Ah, looks like the WiFi might not be stellar. Oh, well.) I walked into the lobby and talked to a woman who reminded me remarkably of my S.O.'s ex wife, who lives in the area. For a brief second I thought it was actually her. So my husband's ex's doppleganger smiles and asks me how she can help me.
I explain that I want a cheap room for the night and she asks me what kind of room I want.
As it happens, the only $40 rooms are smoking rooms.
The next size "up" (a queen) is $50.
Cue some grumbling.
"Well, this is going to sound nuts but, can I go 'sniff' the room?"
She grinned at me, and handed me two keys. "Sure, hon. These two are right next to each other. You let me know which one you want, Ok?"
Couldn't be simpler, right?
And you KNOW that Kukla never takes a room without inspecting it first. I've been given rooms that had bugs scatter when I turned on the light, a room that was full of people and pot smoke, and rooms that were not what they were supposed to be (where is the other bed?)
I check out 127: This room is not clean.
The bedclothes are rumpled, the lights are on, and there's literally chunks of dirt on the floor. And random change.
No.
I check out 128: This room is not safe.
The light does not go on. I pull the curtain to discover that the bed has been disassembled, and is leaned up against the wall. There are lamps, end tables, and assorted other furniture odds and ends stacked in like cordwood.
No.
I returned the keys and explained what I found.
Doppleganger gets annoyed, though not at me. "I'm sorry, hon. They're making me look bad. Here, let's try this one instead."
I check out 103: This room is most certainly storage.
The light does not go on. I now know what this means. A second glance confirms tons of equipment and furniture stacked on top of the stripped mattress.
Yeah.... no.
I return the key and report my findings.
She gives me a kind of a weird look, like she'd found some treasure and isn't sure she can tell me about it. "Ok, this is the last room I have available. A manager stayed in it last night, so I know it's ok. She holds the key like it's precious. "It's the Jacuzzi suite."
I raise an eyebrow.
"It's normally $79, but I'll only charge you the 49.99 for the queen room."
I raise the other eyebrow.
"Assuming it's ok."
I took the key.
I check out room 100: This room is pretty sweet.
Large, for a motel room. Large for a HOTEL room, in fact. I could seriously throw a party in there. Lots of diffuse lighting, and sure enough a Jacuzzi tub that seems really new and really nice.
"I'll take it."
She gives me some towels, though I'm not stupid: If I know that I'll be staying in a MOtel, I bring my own towels.
So that's how I wound up in the Jacuzzi suite, mere minutes from my beloved, for a very reasonable price.
I texted him to let him know I landed safely. Mentioned the suite. Asked, "Should I check out before I come to pick you up?"
I filled up the jacuzzi and indulged myself in some bubbles courtesy of Lush, music from the Ipad, and washed my hair.
I'll tell you; I didn't sleep especially well. The bed was comfortable enough, but once the room cooled down sufficiently, it was dry as a bone and I know I was snoring. My throat and chest hurt.
However, my alarm went off and I got up to go. He had texted me back, "I think I know you better than that."
Clever boy.
He always was such a clever boy.
Check out is 11am.
So I picked him up on time, and we went back to my little Jacuzzi Suite.
*scene missing*
He helped me load up the car and was rewarded with a fresh peach from the Schnuck's sale bin.
We got him to his interview (right in the heart of The Hill), and I cruised around the Tower Grove area peeking at some of the properties for rent.
We went to lunch and he says that the interview went well. He should hear back from them the beginning of next week.
Pho grand is delicious as always.
I was able to get him back to the facility in time to get me back into the city to meet my customer for her class at 3.
Then I worked until 9pm.
Long day.
Fun adventure.
