This review is somewhat tongue-in-cheek but every incident is true.
I should have known things were going sideways when the elevator floor was grease stained and the air temp in the elevator was about 90 degrees. The ride to the sixth floor seemed to take a very long time. Overheated halls reek of cigarette smoke and too little disinfectant. Stains of various types decorated each doorway on the way to my room at the end of the long hall.
The heady combination Mildew smell, old Cigarette smoke, and a blast of hot air greet me at the door to my room. Carpet showing its seams and too much wear lead to cheap furniture with too many vacuum cleaner dings in the legs. The in-the-wall air conditioner was just as loud as you would expect.
Sweat dripped down my neck as I unpacked while the overtaxed AC unit groaned rhythmically across the room. "Ahhh", I thought "there's an ice maker and soda machine near the elevator." I went in search of liquid refreshment. Ice fell freely from the ice maker promising relief despite the crusty substance exuding from the seams of the machine. The Coke machine takes two of my dollar bills gracefully. I press the button for Diet Coke - the machine responds "out of stock", I press the second button for Diet Coke - "out of stock". OK I'll take Sprite - No I may not buy Sprite. I'll take Fanta.... Please! - Denied! OK I'll pay $1.75 for purified tap water.... "Out of stock". Not to be cowed, I ventured back into the oppressive elevator and dropped to the fifth floor in search of liquid refreshment and personal satisfaction. Just after the elevator doors close on the fifth floor I see the sign... "Vending machines and Ice are located on even numbered floors."- --------!
Let my quest continue- onward to the fourth floor. This time the elevator door opens to display something is different. The metal railing that usually adorns the wall of the elevator at waist level is currently lying on the floor of the elevator amidst the badly stained carpeting. Most likely some other hotel patron ripped the railing from the wall of the elevator in an effort to escape the oppressive heat.
Yup there's the ice machine and soda machine in the promised location. I whip out a dollar and insert it into the bill changer..... Yup the @#@#$% thing won't take dollar bills!
I press on. Ha! They’ve hidden the working soda machine on the eighth floor. I gladly fed the soda machine every one of the singles I had in my pockets. Diet Coke, Fanta, and Water quickly became part of my stash.
On the up side, finding liquid refreshment has taken so long that the room is almost frosty…
Discovered the toilet has a slow leak around 11PM last night. About twice an hour the toilet loudly refills itself for no particular reason.
Did you know that the button of the phone labeled “Wakeup Call” doesn’t actually connect to the wakeup call system? You have to dial “0”. Says so on page 6 of the Guest Directory.
Happy to report that the city of San Jose begins running its politically correct electric trains at 5:15 in the morning. From the sixth floor you can look down on the roof of the train as it rumbles by. No wonder the wakeup call system is unnecessary.
Around 7:30AM discovered that no matter how long I ran the water there was no hot water. The front desk clerk seems surprised that someone called without screaming. Thank the gods for the highly effective maintenance crew working on the boiler. No one has any guesses about when the water would run warm again.
While killing time avoiding the non-proverbial cold shower I wrote a couple of notes for the staff nicely asking to leave the AC on and to take the pizza box as it was trash.
I called down to the desk to request repairs to old faithful, the toilet. I was assured it would be fixed.
8:15 brought hot water. My private parts unclenched. Ahh there’s the source of the mildew smell, bubbled ceiling from a leak upstairs – poorly patched wallpaper. Boy I sure hope it was the tub that leaked upstairs. Out the door in time for the SEO Conference. Unfortunately the fastest route to the Convention Center is through the Hilton. Such contrast can be painful early in the morning. Carpeting that hasn’t been trampled into a threadbare dirty concrete like texture is a stark contrast.
The Conference went well; I’d guess 3000+ attendees. Seminars are good and too the point. I’m happy to report we are pretty much at the cutting edge for a company without a zillion dollars to spend. But enough good news- Back to the rant.
I walked across the street to from the Convention Center to Hotel Hell. Same whipped dog look on the faces of the desk clerks. They seem to be saying “Could the cheap blue blazer fit me any worse?” No wonder they look unhappy.
Six floors up in the dirty eleva-sauna. But its OK, I’ll be able to dump the conference bag that weighs about 8 bounds. It wouldn’t weigh that much except that I stole and stashed a soft drink or bottle of water at every conference break. Not my usual style but I can rationalize the behavior to avoid another vending machine confrontation.
As I open the door I hear the toilet begins its irregular fill cycle. I’m greeted by the smell of last night’s pizza carefully stored at ninety degrees all day long in a room with no air conditioning. Silly me I only wrote “TRASH” on the box and put it on the trash can. I poke my head in the bathroom to see if there is any evidence that they even tried to fix the toilet. Nope, no evidence of a repair attempt. But the urine trails on the side of the toilet from a previous visitor are clearly visible.
Time for a chat with the manager…. Six floors down, a 5 minute wait while three employees check in one couple. In my most controlled voice I ask the manager on duty to help me. “Please accept my apology in advance I’m sure some of the intense anger I’m feeling right now will show through while I talk to you”. I explain to him that I had called down this morning to get the toilet fixed while I was waiting for the hot water to be fixed. I explained that I was pretty sure that no one had tried to fix the toilet as the urine stains were still on the toilet after both the maid and the repair folks worked on the toilet.
Credit where credit is due. John the manager on duty used his best hospitality school training and empathsized with my problem and apologized. I was assured that the repairman and the maid would be dispatched. He offered dinner and drinks on the hotel. I decided to walk off the residual adrenaline. Six blocks later I’m back in the hotel and up in my room. Nothing has changed. No wait, there’s old faithful filling up again. Yup still got urine. And now I notice there is exactly one towel in the entire room. OK maybe we are in-progress I’ll give it some time.
Damn, all the stolen beverages are warm. After my walk a cold drink would be so nice. What the heck it’s Monday… Of course someone has filled the soda machine. Yeah right. Takes money-- no product to buy. Fine I’ll ice the stolen goodies.
I get the internet connection running and login to my email. 345 messages, about normal. Time to call my friend John again and complain about the towels. I ask for John and get a perfunctory “Hold”. Luckily being on hold for 18 minutes is just about right to read all the email. Just for fun I leave the phone off the hook (still on hold) and ride my friend the sauna down to the lobby. Luckily manager John is at the desk with no one else around. John seemed only slight surprised when I asked him to look down and see which line was on hold and for how long. Eighteen minutes seems OK by him. He tells me his people report all is fixed and the maid removed all but one towel to freshen them. Ask me not what this really means. I assure him nothing is fixed and could I have more than one towel. He says he’ll follow-up and calls me in the room.
Yeah the maid came in while maintenance was working on the toilet. She just didn’t bother coming back. The second I hang up the phone the toilet begins a refill cycle.
Once I have climbed down from the ceiling I call John at the desk again. He suggests a new room. I ask, “Will it be any better?” He promises to inspect the new room personally and bring down the key. Time to pack for Steve.
The maid promptly arrives as I start to pack.
By the time I’m done packing, manager John has arrived. The conversation goes something like this. “Thank you John for how you’ve handled this. You’ve got to think that I’m a crazy person or I’m cursed. Here look at my urine problem”; As I point out the drippy trail. (Yeah the maid has been folding towel for five minutes). And lo and behold Old Faithful the toilet begins its ritual gurgling refill as we stand there.
Validation Glorious Self Righteous Validation! Hah! For all those times you take the car to the mechanic and it behaves perfectly until the mechanic is out of earshot. Glorious In Your Face Validation.
Moving on up. Seventh floor and opposite side of the building from the Trains. Did I mention that Hotel Hell is on the flight path for San Jose Airport? From the Seventh floor you can easily read the tail number of the planes as they pass by.
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