This “hotel” has it all—bedbugs (room 412), a fitfully -spitting shower head, cracked sink, and stopped-up bathtub drain (room 405), a hoodie-wearing surly lad behind the front desk, and customer service that will make your jaw drop in amazement!
Here’s an example of what you can expect. You turn down the bed and find some blood-engorged insects frolicking away. You call the front desk and report your discovery. You won’t hear anything like, “Oh, we’re sorry.” Or, “Can we help move you to another room?” Or, “That’s terrible!” No, the clerk says: “What do you want to do?”
You say, “We want to move out of this room!” The desk says, “Well…okay. Come down and get a key. But all we have is a room in the back, on an alley overlooking a neighbor’s kitchen.”
So you move your stuff and, since it’s too late to find another hotel, hope to sleep in peace.
This place is supposed to be rated something like #140 out of 250 local inns. It’s scary to think about what the runners-up must be like. It helps you understand why so many San Franciscans would rather crawl into sleeping bags on the sidewalk.
Bottom line: We wouldn’t recommend this dump to Osama bin Laden, even if he should ask nicely.
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