Recap: In the previous blog, we drove from New Orleans to Baton Rouge where we sat inside a McDonalds for four hours. Eventually, we made our way towards Austin, TX. We had planned to drive all the way to Austin but due to work, we were only in Houston by 9:30pm. We debated whether to drive another three hours in the dark to Austin or find a campsite or hotel in Houston. Since, we were already on a longer stint than our normal weekend trips, we weren’t fond of the idea of setting up a tent in the dark and having to pack up again. Needless to say, we were in the market for a cheap motel.
After a quick search on yelp, we found one on the outskirts of town for about fifty bucks. We knew it wasn’t going to be anything great but it would give us a place to sleep for the night. As we were pulling into the motel, RJ noticed an adjacent establishment that advertised an entire $5 difference in price at a whopping $45/night! Now, it’s worth mentioning that even though conventional wisdom would dictate that you should avoid $45 motels like RJ’s socks after a long day of being on the bike, we (definitely just RJ) decided that saving the $5 was a worthy enough reason to blatantly disregard the principles that we cling to. The motel looked a little run down and had a terrible coat of orange paint slapped on the exterior. RJ walked in the five by five cubicle to ask if there was a room available. He was in there so long, I was starting to get a bit worried and wondered if he had been stabbed and hauled off to the back of the building to die. Apparently, according to RJ, the guy was a 5’4″ feisty Pakistani that only communicated through indistinguishable yelling. It took so long because he was trying to explain the security deposit to RJ and well, it just took a long time. We took the last room available and the guy flipped the “No Vacancy” sign around on the door, turned the lights off in his little cubicle, and locked the door.
With trepidation, I walked over to our room while RJ pulled the bike up to our door. There was an old car mat at the foot of the door letting us know we had made a terrible decision, and it wasn’t going to get much better.
As if the old car mat, feisty manager, poor paint job, and absurdly low price weren’t alarming enough…, as I opened the door, I noticed someone had previously tried to pry the door open with a pry bar… (*whispers* mommy!).
We were greeted with a blast of cigarette smoke. Kinda like walking into the bathroom after RJ has taken a hot, steamy dump. (It was so bad that the next day after we had been riding for awhile, I could still smell it on our riding jackets. The smoke, that is.) I fumbled for the light switch to reveal a very dimly lit room with two beds, a table, two mismatched chairs, a dresser, a bedside lampstand and carpet that I’m certain was subject to a homicide. The guy said if we didn’t use one of the beds we could see him in the morning and get five dollars back. What kind of motel are they running here!!!??? I told RJ we should get our money back and go somewhere else immediately. But the guy had gone to bed and the door was locked. Nothing we could do…except leave. Which is what we probably should have done– but we didn’t.
I debated whether to put our tarp on the floor and roll out our sleeping bags, but that was the whole point of us going to a motel instead of finding a campsite, so we decided against it. Kid you not, the floor in one corner of the room appeared as though someone’s main artery had been sliced and left to bleed out on the floor till the next week when the cleaning service arrived, and then instead of actually cleaning, they just sprayed Febreze. On the shelf in the bathroom, there was a dirty towel the cleaning lady had missed. And I’m pretty sure the head from the body that had been murdered in the corner was stuffed in the mini fridge for several months along with the smell of a homeless camp. I dared not take off my shoes and walk on the crime ridden floor and even wore my flip flops in the shower.
I had rather a restless sleep that night, wondering if the sheets I was under were actually clean. RJ slept like a baby.
Morning finally came as I could see light shining through the door where someone had tried to pry it open.
I had never been more eager to get back on the road. RJ went to the front desk and got his five dollars and we were outa there! On to Austin we drove.
Have you ever had a terrible hotel experience? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below. Also, it would make me feel a lot better to know we aren’t the only crazy people staying in a motel for $45.
Cheers!
~em and rj