What's the seediest hotel you've ever stayed in?

In My Humble Opinion
1

With mod permission, I’m restarting this thread, which I first posted back in 2003 (for fear of resurrecting a zombie, I won’t link to the old thread). So, tell us: what’s the seediest motel you’ve ever stayed at?

The worst I can think of happened to my family instead of me: back when I was a freshman in college, my parents and brother decided to come down to watch a football game. Although it was “Family Weekend”, my father didn’t make a reservation anywhere, so when they arrived in town, every place was booked solid. And they couldn’t stay with me, because I lived in a dorm room.

Good ol’ Dad finally found a vacancy at a really trashy place on the US highway headed out of town. The first warning sign: rooms were $15 a night (this was in 1991). I saw the room, and thank God I didn’t have to stay there. Threadbare, holey carpets; towels like thin sandpaper; just a generally oily, grimy feel. But wait, there’s more! The very best part, in my opinion, was the stain on the molding by the door, which looked very much like a blood stain. It was at about head height, and there were little “trickles” from it almost down to the floor.

They were awakened twice in the night: once by the train that rattled past their window at around 4 AM, and once by a policeman looking for the friend of the guy he was arresting in the parking lot.

To this day, we remind my father about this hotel. In fact, when I mentioned that my family had stayed there to my girlfriend, who at the time worked at the rape crisis center, her eyes got really wide. She had, shall we say, heard about the place more than once.

So, I’m sure someone in our international community can come up with something even worse. Tell us about the very worst!

2

Gillette stadium (home of the NE Patriots) is located about 20 miles outside of Boston on US Route 1 which is one of the major traditional highways that predates the interstate highway system. For reasons that I have never been able to imagine, a 5 mile stretch of this road has a plethora of motels that date from the late 1930’s - 1950’s. One gem is the Red Fox inn but there are several others. It certainly doesn’t appear that they are kept that way because of nostalgia. They years, even decades, just slipped by to fast for them to keep up.

I have stayed in two over the years. The first one was a few years ago and I woke up the night clerk by tapping hard on the security glass. They were out of the standard $39 a night rooms but they agreed to give me a suite for the same price. That seemed great. I got to my room and the suite was basically one large room with a heart shaped hot tub in the middle of the room. An ancient 19" TV was positioned for easy viewing from the hot tub. Believe me, I made the most of this setup. I overslept checkout time the next morning and a maid with what appeared to have a raging meth addiction based on her facial appearance had to chase me out.

The second one was in the same general area but genuinely bad. I got the room for the same area standard of $39 a night. However, the entire hotel was dark, rather large, and only about 10% inhabited that night. It also smelled so strongly of urine and smoke that it literally burned my eyes. I got in my room and decided to take a bath. I was in the bath for about 20 minutes before I heard the locks turning and two employees flew in so fast that I barely had time to grab a towel. My bath had caused a partial ceiling collapse in the room below. It wasn’t my fault. I left the next morning but my clothes smelled disgusting like I was cohabiting with a troop of feline chain smokers.

3

Some place in Pomona CA, where I stopped on one of my trips between Atascadero and Glendale, having gotten a very late start that time. There was a beer fridge in the corner tied shut with what looked like medical gauze. The TV set was so old it didn’t change channels, but tuned in frequencies like a radio, and I had to go back and ask the clerk for a light bulb for the reading lamp.

4

In 1970, I qualified for the Federal Management Internship Program, and since the jobs for which I was being considered were at different locations in the country, I traveled quite a bit for the interviews. One of the interviews was for a civilian job with the Army Materiel Command in Leavenworth, Kansas. Since I wanted to be well-rested for the interview, I arrived the night before. After a train ride, a bus ride, and a taxicab ride, I checked into the Cody Hotel in downtown Leavenworth (the cab driver told me it was the best hotel in town).

The Cody Hotel was named for Buffalo Bill Cody, and it looked as if it hadn’t been renovated since Buffalo Bill slept there. When I was ready to go to sleep, I pulled back the bedcovers and was horrified to see hundreds of tiny critters scurrying all over the sheets. I had seen pictures of bedbugs, but I’d never in my life met any until that night.

I went downstairs and told the night clerk that I’d need another room, since there were bedbugs in my assigned room. “Oh, there are bedbugs in all the rooms,” he said cheerfully.

I didn’t sleep well, and I didn’t get the job. Which was probably just as well, since Leavenworth didn’t impress me much. To this day, I think of Leavenworth as a place with a federal prison, an army base, and bedbugs in the best hotel in town.

5

I’d have to say the HoJo’s in New Orleans. I’ve never seen so many cockroaches in my life.

A distant second would be a guest house on Khao San Road in Bangkok. It made the one in The Beach look like the Biltmore.

Third would be a hotel in Yangon, Myanmar. The host was the nicest guy on the planet. I got up at 4 in the morning to take a pee and he was cooking eggs for my breakfast because that was the only time the electricity was on.

i’d have to toss in the hotel I stayed in Miami. The door was locked with no sign. After wandering around for half an hour, I figured out that reception was in the building across the street. There was no air conditioning.

6

The Grand Hotel de la Poste in Marseille, France. It was a tour group of Classical Study High School Students. Everybody had something to report.
Dried blood on the sheets.

Heavy iron shutters that wouldn’t open…

…except when somebody did manage to open one, a dead pigeon fell out.

Door handles that didn’t work (You had to use your leverage on the key to open the door)

Prefab steel toilets installed in each room. I think the building predated widespread use of indoor plumbimng, and this was a retrofit. No joke.

7

There was the little place I had to stay at in Honor, MI. Never a good sign when they advertise “TV” on their sign out front as if it were something space age.

There was the Howard Johnsons in NJ somewhere that I stayed in & shared the same floor with a group of ladies of <ahem> questionable character.

Lastly, there was a little place in Iron Bridge, Ontario that had paper thin walls (well, actually they were as thin as the imitation wood paneling). I more so felt bad for the other people there since we had a baby with an ear infection with us. No one got any sleep!

8

I have stayed in a few.

Kingman Arizona-Don’t remember the name of it but there were plenty of cockroaches.

Paris Michigan-Paris Motel. Took a shower and noticed a hole in the wall that led to the next rooms shower.(I took A long shower :wink: )

Bullhead City Arizona-Arizona Sunset Suites.
I lived there for a couple a months, during that time I had-

1.A naked old man knocking on my window at 7 am in the morning. I looked out the door and called the cops,they came and ended up clubbing him, macing him, and hog-tying him cus he grabbed a lady cops boob.

2.Had a guy walk into my room cus “the door was unlocked”. That ended with me pushing him down a flight of stairs.

3.Had a Jealous boyfriend kick my door off the hinges, only to find out he had the wrong room.

  1. A meth lab bust

5.Finding a scopion in my room(I was on the 2nd floor).

Figured it was time to move outta there so I moved to

The Nevada Inn(also in Bullhead City)

Alwways plenty of guys in the lobby and the alley willing to give BJ’s for 5 or 10 bux.

9

I’ve stayed at three creepy hotel/motels.

  1. The Yancy Hotel (somewhere in Nebraska) where I had to step over a person to get to my creepy room where I got zero sleep.

  2. Some joint in Atlanta that was so creepy I made my boyfriend stay on the phone with me all night.

  3. One of the many No-Tell Motels in Las Vegas. It had all the stereotypical goodness one would expect from a place that is one step above a pay-by-the-hour establishment. It really should be on the “things I must do before I die” list of every American. Heh-heh.

10

I don’t recall the previous thread, so I may have posted this tale. Deal - I’m old - I repeat myself!! :stuck_out_tongue:

We were living in northeast FL in the Jacksonville metropolitan area. I don’t recall if this was pre-or-post baby, but I do know the two of us were taking a weekend alone. We wanted an oceanfront room, just because, and we decided to go to Fernandina Beach, since it was close, but far enough away to seem like a mini-vacation.

This would have been mid-to-late 80s, so we couldn’t just google hotels. I picked a few out of the yellow pages, and off we went. The one we went to was technically waterfront, although there was a road between the motel and the beach. It was a small, single-story, kinda shabby looking place - it had “atmosphere”, OK?? And it was pretty well booked, but we got a teeny room next to the office. All the other rooms were numbered. Ours was “B” which I suspect stood for Barely a room. But it had a bed and a bath and it was on the water…

We did the usual beach community stuff - walking in the sand, picking up shells, checking out a local restaurant, then finally back to our room for the night. It was a noisy place, partly due to being next to the office and mostly because it was a pretty cheap place that attracted a noisy crowd. But eventually we slept.

My husband awoke the next morning facing the wall, and was greeted by the sight of a large booger stuck there at eye level (when lying down.) So we knew what the “B” stood for. And we had a good laugh, and never spent another night in Fernandina. I understand the real hotels there are nice, tho.

11

My worst wasn’t really all that terrible. We were saving money on our return from dropping off my daughter at college, so we picked out a hotel that had a very low rate.

The room was a bit ratty, and there was only one bar of soap (unopened) in the bathroom, with only a couple of towels. The blankets were a bit threadbare.

Otherwise, though, it was tolerable.

12

The worst hotel I’ve been in should have been one of the best it was right across the street from the Gulf of Mexico in Galveston. Unfortunately it wasn’t in what would be called the good part of town and the door to my room had a large boot print in the middle of it when I went to drop off my stuff inside the room the door frame was broken from where the deadbolt had broken through. Although it did look like they had repaired the main lock so it at least worked. I was on a school field trip and the hotel was booked so I could change rooms. Oh ya did I mention cockroaches?

13

I “stayed” a couple of times at a place called the 300 Motel. The name was originally the 3.00 (pronounced three dollar) motel, but they changed the name (but not the whole sign, just the decimal point) when they went up to 5.00/night.

This was in the early 1970’s on Phillips Highway in Jacksonville, Florida. The motel was right across from Gatorland (See Live Gators “Here”!), next to a pawn shop and a used car lot.

Personally I think they should have changed the name of the motel to the “Biggest Fucking Roaches You’ve Ever Seen in Your Life Motel”. That, and the fact that this establishment had no air conditioning of any kind (and did I mention this was Jacksonville?) , tells you why this was NOT the Four Seasons.

14

My last year of college, my boyfriend and I took a vacation to Baja California during Spring Break. I imagined something stupid and fun and drunk, out of an MTV reality show. He imagined lots and lots of surfing.

So he found some awesome waves and announced that we were staying at the hotel within walking distance. Anything else of interest was about 20 minutes away by car.

When we were checking in, the woman taking our (but mostly my) money warned us in broken English about the rabid dogs running around behind the property.

Our room was a converted garage, with a concrete floor and everything. There was a bed in the middle of the room and nothing else. The curtains only came halfway down the windows. The shower, as it were, was a hose strung up behind a curtain.

I killed this particular boyfriend and buried his body on the beach. It was very sad.

15

In 1980, after a long hospital stay in my hometown (Tulsa, Oklahoma) I had to travel to the Cleveland Clinic (In Cleveland, Ohio) for surgery. My husband and I reserved a room in a motel that was walking distance from the clinic. The plan was that we would spend the night in the motel, then the next day I would check into the Cleveland Clinic Hospital, and my husband would continue staying at the motel until I was released. We confirmed our reservation with a credit card, and we thought that this meant that we were guaranteed a room. We thought wrongly.

Since our plane was late, we arrived several hours after “check-in time,” and all the rooms were occupied. The manager took pity on us, and told us that there was a foldaway bed in the janitorial storage room, and we could spend the night there for free. He gave us a key to the room and found some clean sheets for us.

The foldaway bed was tiny. It was narrower than a twin bed. More like a baby’s crib. And it creaked and sagged and stank. But my husband and I were exhausted, so we clung to each other in this horrible excuse for a bed and finally fell asleep.

We were awakened at six in the morning by a motel housekeeper who had not been warned that somebody was sleeping in the janitorial storage room. This lady was scared and angry and all kinds of displeased. “Y’all can NOT be in here,” she shrieked. And yet – mirabile dictu – we were.

16

The worst was probably the place we stayed in the town of Mopti in Mali, Africa. Another was the motel in Port Hueneme, CA that had a sign on the door of the room stating “No Prostitution Permitted”.

We should have a thread called “Worst Bathrooms on The Planet”. Hoo-boy, have I seen some reekers.

17

City Hotel Amsterdam- listed as a two star hotel, obviously on a scale of 100. I didn’t know that a hundred dollar a night hotel in Amsterdam equated to a 29 dollar a night one in the US- threadbare carpet, smelly, bedding so gross I used my coat instead- but nice old world building, and safe.

Also the Pennsylvania Hotel in the heart of Times Square- 79 dollars a night via Hotwire in 2002, which again I didn’t know was “too low”- they were remodeling at the time but 79 dollars got you one of of the un-remodeled rooms with shitty beds, bare white walls, a TV with a knob, and a bathtub that I had to buy a pair of flip flops before I’d stand in it.

Also some unnamed shithole 100 feet from Tijuana in San Ysidro that they actually had the nerve to check the room out before they’d let me leave, to make sure I didn’t steal the brown shag carpet and 13" black and white TV with coat hanger antenna, when for 10 bucks more I could have stayed in a Days Inn.

18

The (RIP) Spa (with Slayer!) and the Lincoln Inn, both on North Lincoln in Chicago.

I, uh, don’t remember too much about the Spa.

Our room at the Lincoln had four walls of mirrors and a mirrored ceiling, and four free channels of porn on the TV. At $35/night, I actually consider it a bargain. The sheets were clean and the IHOP was close.

19

On the island of Mauritius the good resort had overbooked, so we were stranded and had to take any opening, which was a 6-cabin one-woman operation. Tropical climate, windows open without screens. There were big millipedes crawling all over, geckos crawling overhead and dropping onto the bed, and we saw them put on new sheets but the pillows smelled. They had a “beach” which was a ten foot wide strip of sharp lava rocks that cut our rubber soled shoes. Fortunately, after one night the real resort had room again.

20

It’s funny because I can almost guarantee I know where you’re talking about. :slight_smile:

For me, it was a Motel 6 outside of Blue Springs, MO. There was safety glass separating the clerk from the public, which we weren’t used to seeing, and there were a number of police cars in the parking lot at the time. We could see officers rather aggressively knocking on the door of one of the rooms and shouting at the occupant(s). So I asked the clerk, “Can I ask what’s going on?” And her response was, “No.”

Had it not been for the fact that we’d arrived late from a long night and were in unfamiliar territory, I’m certain we’d have just left. As it was, the room was a bit skeevy, but nothing in my mind was worse than the fact that God-knows-what was going on around us in the motel.