5 Things I Hate About Hotels

 
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    February 19, 2013 at 4:00 am

    Hotels are great, but they aren’t perfect. Here are five things I hate about hotels… specifically the Holiday Inn in Philadelphia.


    Hidden Fees

    I would have preferred to give my money to a cat than the Holiday Inn

    I called the hotel before arriving and they quoted me a rate of $109 per night. Once I got there, my rate was $134 per night. I was told that this was due to the addition of both taxes and parking. I understand that everyone is a slave to taxes and there’s basically no escaping that unless you live in a solar-powered hut deep underground, so I agreed.

    Then I received another paper that quoted me $150 per night. I was then told that this paper reflected the parking fee of $25 per day, and not the bill for $134 per night. Confused, tired, just wanting to watch terrible products being sold on QVC and knowing I wouldn’t be able to find a cheaper place on Presidents’ day weekend, I begrudgingly paid my balance.

    No one mentioned this extra parking fee before they charged me for it, and one thing I really hate about hotels is their sneaky hidden charges. Taxes are a given, but receiving a bill about $40 more than what you were quoted is some pretty scandalous stuff.

     

    Parking Should Be Free

    It didn't even look like this

    Parking in the stupid parking lot of the hotel should be free. How do they think I got there, by bus? What am I, a peon? And who do they think I am, charging me $25 per day to park? A rich person with an extra $25 a day to burn?

    I hate that hotels don’t include parking as a courtesy to the guest, especially when that person is staying for more than a single night. The Holiday Inn is already a multi-million dollar company without having to milk me for my binge drinking money. What I’m saying is, take out the parking fee and make it up by throwing a mini bar in the room. I’ll be just as broke, the hotel will be just as profitable, and happiness will exude from my body like vomit.

     

    Worst Vending Machines Ever


    I went to the vending machine for some late-night snacks. An ancient, microwaveable cheeseburger or some moldy looking chicken nuggets weren’t exactly what I had in mind, but this is all the vending machine had to offer. I can see how someone would want Ramen noodles, the staple food of poor college students everywhere, but at $2 per package it would have almost been more worth it to walk half a mile to the WaWa for some better snacks in general.

    Kraft Mac N’ Cheese, an old chicken sandwich, mashed potatoes in a package, and other unsavory pre-prepared meals could be found in the fancy machine that featured a spinning display case that would turn at the press of a button to show you weird meat after weird meat that you definitely didn’t want. Unless you’re into Salmonella.

    Can’t a bitch get some Cheez-Its?

     

    Terrible Delivery

    I would have preferred this over what we ordered

    Another thing I hate about hotels is that while the room service is always horribly overpriced, delivery options are usually even worse. I collected some ‘recommended’ menus from the front desk and spent the rest of the evening keeled over, trying to figure out what kind of monster would recommend a fast food service that tasted the way eating McDonald’s makes you feel (i.e. like you’re dying).

    Even a simple request like a grilled cheese sandwich was massacred enough to make the Grilled Cheese Gods cry tears of Wiz and Gorgonzola. A few bites of the soggy, floppy mess that this place so inappropriately called “food” later and we were both slipping into a food coma. Not the good kind. The kind that happens when you’re full of poison and debating a call to 911 for a stomach pump.

     

    Terrible Internet

    Rustic motel

    One would expect that for over a hundred bucks a night, the internet would be halfway decent. This is not so. It’s slower than a grandma on a handful of Xanax. I wound up just using up my shitty data plan on my phone anytime I needed to look something up because I didn’t want to deal with dial-up modem-esque speeds, nor did I have the patience to reconnect after getting kicked off the network every ten minutes or so.

     
    About the Author
    I started writing when I was .05. I have a dog named Cody. And a cat named Catty. I have other cats but they aren't important. I run www.ForkParty.com. Follow me on Twitter @Important
     
     
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