A Review of a Shady Motel, By Anne Frank


Lobby: The desk clerk was missing when I first got there, so I pressed the buzzer like the poorly written sign instructed me.  Fifteen minutes later, I was getting ready to leave, when the clerk finally emerged from the back room, reeking of marijuana smoke.  He mumbled what I think was an apology, took my 35 dollars, and gave me my room key (an actual key).  What a nice guy!  He didn’t even try to put me in one death camp.  I also picked up several pamphlets advertising local go kart tracks.  That looks like a lot more fun than sitting quietly.

Room: I don’t think the room had been cleaned since the last guest was there, an obese man judging by the size of the dirty socks laying on the bed.  It was supposed to be a non-smoking room, but clearly wasn’t.  Someone managed to steal the remote, even though it was obvious that it had been affixed to the bedside table.  However, I did particularly enjoy not having to share it with eight other people.  Going outside whenever I wanted was an added bonus.

Other Guests: On one side, my neighbor was a very busy prostitute.  She had customers streaming in and out all through the night.  The paper thin walls seemed to actually amplify the stomach-churning noises coming from her room, somehow.  When, at 4 AM, I lightly knocked on the wall and asked if she could “please try to keep it down a little”, she instructed me to “mind [my] own bidniss, bitch!”  On the other side was what sounded like someone jamming pennies into a garbage disposal.  The complete lack of Nazis more than made up for these minor inconveniences, though.

Bathroom: This bathroom may not have passed the standard 2:1 clean towel to used condom ratio favored by many reviewers, and the water never seemed to get warmer than 42 degrees F, but I really liked flushing the toilet as often as I wanted, without fear of alerting the factory workers below, who may turn you and your family in for reward money.

Food: The only continent that seemed to be represented in the free continental breakfast was Stale Donut-ica.  The coffee tasted like it was just the warmed contents of the front desk guy’s spit cup.  Everything in the vending machine seemed to be at least three months past its expiration date.  They did have ‘Tato Skins, though.  They are much tastier than the potato treat I am accustomed to, 1/8th of a raw one.

Overall, I would recommend this motel for everyone.


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