The WORST Hotel Room in Appalachia

Yes, I had to stay two nights at was has got to be one of the worst hotels ever. The property was last decorated in the Eisenhower-era, I swear. Upon entering the room, I was immediately greeted by an overwhlemingly musty odor that nearly blinded me. As soon as I recovered, I noticed the black vinyl padded headboard at the top of the bed -- I mean, c'mon, who was getting busy in here, a billy goat?

Let us also take a moment to notice the funky bedspread and wall-mirror (cracked in two places) . . . cue the bad porno music and strike up the lava lamp.

As I unpacked I began to take in the, uh, style of tha vanity/sink area . . . was it art deco, retro dorm? Who knows?! I sure as hell didn't!

Then I checked out the bathroom. See that metal grate in the photo above? Yeah, that's a heater! You turn the knob located a few feet above the toilet paper and the voila, your bathroom warms up -- or so I assume. After about 2 minutes I began to become concerned about the burning smell coming out of it, so I shut it off. Dr. J says I should have tossed a log in it and grabbed some marshmellows to toast while I sat on the throne. (He knows I love to multi-task at all times).

Ah, but then there were the sheets! I stopped counting after I noticed six cigaretter burn holes in the fitted sheet. Probably because I was distracted by the assorted stains -- thank gawd I always bring long pajama pants to sleep in when I am on a business trip as I am concerned that I would have needed some sort of shots or medical care had my bare skin come in contact with the "debris."

And before any of my beloved smart ass pals inquires why I didn't just switch hotels . . . I TRIED!!! Every other room in town was booked (I checked, and re-checked). I heard from two reliable sources that it was equally bad at the Days Inn, where "lil' critters" were seen scampering on the sheets. If I had encountered this, I would have slept in my car, due to my paralyzing fear of buggies.

By the way, I did alert the front desk about the less-than-acceptable sheets on my bed. They profusely apologized, and I did have better sheets for the second night. By better I mean only two holes, but I think they were just rips, and not from flying ashes.

I was never so glad to come back home. Within 90 seconds time, I was taking an incredibly hot shower, throughly scrubbing every conceivable inch of my body.

I'm doing laundry tomorrow. Bleach will be used, with a chaser of Lysol.

[P.S. Folks whom I shared the photos with have come up with some pretty snarky yet hilarious comments -- especially Adrian. Feel free to e-mail me your thoughts, as I will be doing a follow-up to this blog entry featuring your comments.]