Hotel Hell

I have to travel occasionally for my job. Part of that travel is staying in hotels. Before you read the rest of this post I want you to know that I love staying in hotels. The room is always clean. You leave and come back and someone has made your bed. For these two things alone I would live in a hotel for the rest of my life if that were possible. But there are a few things that bug me…

Picture credit:

Picture credit:

Mandatory Valet Parking: I’m not worried about valet’s taking my car for joyrides like in Ferris Bueller. It’s not that great of a car.  I wish I went to a hotel with valets that cool. A hotel I occasionally have to stay at has mandatory valet parking. They are absolutely fanatical about it. The hotel feels the need to have full control of my vehicle, as if their parking garage is some sort of super secret military installation. I can see the lot where they’re going to put my car. It’s not a long walk and I’d prefer to just park it myself and walk in. That, however, is not an option. Neither is them handing over your keys if you need to go get something from your own car.  First the valet offered to go to my car and get what I needed. When I said I’d rather go rummage through my car myself they grudgingly allowed me to handle my own keys, but had a valet accompany me to my car to allegedly make sure I didn’t get myself run over. I think they’re hiding something. Maybe prostitutes turning tricks in my car during the night? He quickly took my keys back, probably to prevent me from seeing what they’re hiding, or from driving anywhere without tipping him. The next morning I wanted to put some things in my car before going to a meeting in the hotel. Guess what? This valet was so insistent about not giving up the keys that I gave up and just told him to throw it in the back seat. If I got my car back and they had converted it, adding all sorts of James Bond type modifications I’d be cool with that, but that never happens. It’s still the same crappy little car I brought there and I had to tip them for not letting me touch my own car for two days.

Picture credit:

Picture credit:

The Elevator People: These people are so annoying that this post was almost completely about them. The Elevator People are those people who just cannot relax about the elevator. If you’re standing with them waiting for an elevator they’re hitting the button repeatedly, like an angry woodpecker on Red Bull, until the elevator arrives. I imagine that if they’re in the elevator they pace furiously back and forth like a caged lion. They’re even more annoying if you’re in the elevator they want to get into. They wait in front of the elevator on their toes, ready to launch themselves into the metal box the moment those doors slide open. If you’re inside the elevator when it opens and you start to walk out you’re suddenly face to face with one of these tightly wound creatures because they had to charge into the elevator, never imagining that anyone might be inside. When I’m elected President, or Sexiest Man Alive, whichever comes first, I’m going to pass a law making it perfectly legal to punch these people right in the forehead if they attempt to enter the elevator before you’ve gotten out. Hey ladies, imagine if your guy was like this about sex. Just pushing the button over and over until the doors open and then rushing in immediately. Oh wait, we are like that.

The receipt under the door: Most hotels now have elves that sneak around in the dark of night to slip your receipt under your door while you sleep. I find that kind of creepy. Just leave me the hell alone while I’m sleeping! I don’t want to know that a stranger is lurking outside my door. This past hotel stay there was apparently a tremendous thunderstorm during the night that woke my co-workers. Not me. I slept straight through until…until I heard a pack of monkeys foraging for food outside my door. From the time and noise it took I was certain that the monkeys, with banshee-like intensity, had dis-assembled the Sunday New York Times and page by page, crumpled it up and forced it under my door.

I hope you enjoyed your stay at The Phil Factor. I’ll have the valet pull your car up. As always, if you enjoy #ThePhilFactor please feel free to share by hitting the Facebook, Twitter or re-blog button below. Have a great weekend! ~Phil


17 responses to “Hotel Hell

  1. “…angry woodpecker on Red Bull”…bwahahahaha, oh the visual! Great post. Chuckle. Blessings too!

  2. You’ve captured the annoyance perfectly! (Love the Elevader photo too.)

  3. You had me at the mandatory valet parking. Um, they do know that’s YOUR car, right? But hey, as far as the clean part…well, I could write a comment here worthy of a whole other blog post but let’s just say, I’ve heard stories. Many times the clean appearance of these rooms are deceptive.

  4. I have never heard of, or encountered, mandatory valet parking. hmmm – maybe I need to upgrade the type of hotel I normally stay at 🙂

  5. A friend and I rode our motorcycles to New Orleans from East Tennessee, don’t think I want a Valet parking my bike, mandatory or not! There are at least two of us, I was informed of your existence by a fellow punster, I enjoy your writing. Take care of our name!!…….PT

  6. After one solitary experience of mandatory valet parking, we no longer choose them. It’s a hassle. Part of the joy of having a car is the ability to get in and go. Standing around waiting is not my favorite thing to do, even without kids and babies in tow.

  7. Very cute. I totally agree!

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