Day's Inn - Part II

 See previous post for "Introduction."

With the heater off the sounds of Albuquerque were right outside the door. Perhaps it's its proximity to Mexico, perhaps it's just the times, but there seems to be an inordinate fascination with loud -- or no -- mufflers. The blatting of the cars, trucks and motorcycles is noted (I discovered) by other motel residents (not just Day's Inn) who wrote of their experience. And it's only Thursday!

I called the Wyndham reservation line to cancel for the next night and ask for a refund. That took 25 minutes and 11 seconds. Come to find out the fellow that checked me in is the owner. When I'd asked, at check-in, he'd denied it saying "I just work here." (I wanted to know who to blame for the $200 deposit.)

I managed to drift off around midnight only to be awakened at 2:40 a.m. by a manic stroller cruising the parapet. He was either on his phone or, as it sounded, blathering lyrically to himself. He came by twice in the next ten minutes, loud enough to ensure full wakefulness.

The hours crawled by. It actually got quiet for ten minutes around 6:00 a.m.

At 7:00 a.m. I contacted Wyndham Customer Service; it was less than satisfying. The rep called the front desk and said she'd talked with Alley (in case you have the pleasure) and they'd cancelled my reservation for Friday...no mention of refund. When I went to check out and retrieve the deposit, Security was within arm's reach. Alley made no inquiry of why I was checking out, smiling pleasantly while noting they'd cancelled my non-cancellable reservation.

Later, I again called Customer Service to see about a refund. I was told I should've addressed the issues with the Manager and requested a refund from them. There's a chance I'll get a refund in a week after my case has been reviewed by Wyndham and the Manager.

You can imagine AirBnb's investors rubbing their palms together and smiling with satisfaction at their expanding empire.

Day's Inn - 10321 Hotel Ave NE, Albuquerque, NM

My time at the AirBnb ran out and I was on the street. I wanted a place close to Michelle's and thought the Day's Inn, just a couple miles from her house, would be good. 

I've stayed in some interesting places in my time, but what with AirBnb stoking the flames of competition, you'd think they'd have gone out of business.

At the front desk the clerk demanded a $200.00 cash deposit. No mention had been made of it when I booked online. While the exchange over the discrepancy in disclosure was unfolding, I watched a young lady make a bee-line through the lobby in a bathrobe (pool closed; no hot tub). She was followed by an overly polite (Yessir, nossir, sorry sir -- indicative of a stay in the hoosegow) young man wearing shorts (outside temp approaching 30 degrees) and a t-shirt, missing most of his front teeth (knocked out? meth?), who requested fresh towels and sheets. The clerk signaled him to wait. I asked to see the room before paying. He said I had to pay first. By the time I got the money I'd forgotten (encroaching senility).

Then came the rules.

My signature confirmed acknowledgement.

Back outside, Security, a fine, strapping, Paul Bunyan-esque fellow about 6'4" weighing (my guess) 325 pds., advised me there were lots of homeless around and I should take the propane tank & tarp off the roof...lest they disappear.

In the room, the shredded curtains and spotted chair warranted photos. 

Pulling back the bedspread, I picked off some hair stuck to the sheet. Though a bit of an aficionado, I couldn't be certain if it was nose or "other," and whether the adhesive was mucus or "other." I unrolled my sleeping bag atop the bedspread.

Now, at 10:08 pm, the heater's just blowing air and I turned it off; I was hoping it'd help cover the sound of the freeway. The terlit whistles a happy tune as it flushes...but, HUURRAYY!, works just ifne. I've got muh fingerz crosst there'll be hot water in the morning. 

It's only two nights; with luck it'll take longer than that for the bedbugs to realize there's prey.