Tag Archives: hotels

Throwback Thursday! Hotel Hell

(o8/16/14) 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: driveaccord.net

Picture credit: driveaccord.net

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: blog.memberclicks.com

Picture credit: blog.memberclicks.com

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 what sounded like 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. In the morning, there were no monkeys, just my crumpled receipt and that vague feeling that I hadn’t slept well.

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

 

Top Ten Tuesday! Ten Reasons I Want to Live in Hotels Forever

If sometime in hopefully the very near future I win a lottery of approximately 1 trillion dollars I am going to sell my house and car and spend the rest of my life in hotels.

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10. No lawn to mow: At hotels I won’t have any yardwork and yet the hedges will always be impeccably trimmed and sometimes in the whimsical shapes of animals. Or should it be the shapes of whimsical animals? Are animals capable of whimsy? I’m not even sure I am.

9. Housekeeping! Who doesn’t want their room cleaned every day? I imagine though that I’d develop an unhealthy Mom complex with my housekeeper to the point that she asks to be re-assigned to another floor.

8. The hotel bar: If I lived there it would be like Cheers and everyone would know my name and yell “Phil!” when I walk in.

7. Coffee in my room: I love just hopping out of bed, turning on the coffee maker and then hopping back in bed with my fresh cup of joe to watch the morning news.

6. The in room hotel safe: I don’t care if it’s tiny. I still feel cool as hell having a safe to lock things up with my secret code. I feel all Mission Impossible-like when I use the safe. I still can’t find a way to lower myself from the ceiling when I’m pretending to break into my own safe.

5. Fresh towels! Soft, cushy and clean every day. They make me feel like that fabric softener bear in the commercial. And btw, I’m only using them once. Re-using a towel is not going to save the planet. I saw a trash receptacle at my local supermarket that said “179 recycled milk jugs were used to create this trash can.” Are you kidding me? The time, energy and fossil fuel needed to make a giant trash can out of milk jugs probably shortened the life of this planet by a year. Don’t tell me to re-use my towels!

4. Weather: I grew up in upstate New York and I still live here. I’m sick and tired of snow. No, I don’t like the change of seasons. You know who says they like the change of seasons? People who live somewhere warm. Jackasses. Spend your whole life digging your car out of the snow six months a year and see if you like the change of seasons then. When I live in hotels I’ll never have to see snow again if I don’t want to.

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3. If You’re tired of the view you can move: If it’s the view from my room or just the city the hotel is in; if I’ve seen all there is to see I can just go to another hotel somewhere else. At some point you know I’ll be in Snow White’s Castle at Disney World. That will be awkward.

2. The friendly hotel staff: They have to be nice to you whether they like you or not. It’s not that I have any problem with people not liking me, but in real, non-hotel life sometimes other people are having bad days or whatever and are not nice. Within the safe confines of a hotel everyone is friendly and there to help. Who doesn’t enjoy groveling sycophants?

1. Being driven around: If I sold my house and car and lived in hotels I’d never have to drive again. At some point in the distant future my sight and reaction time will decline to the point that it would be unsafe for me to continue driving; but you know what? I’ll still have a driver’s license and no one will stop me. When I live in hotels I’ll just call for a taxi, shuttle bus or town car if I need to go somewhere. Me living in hotels will save lives, so if you would all go buy all of my books to the point that I get that trillion dollars I need, it may even save your life. Who knows? If left to my own devices I could be driving down your street someday and you don’t really want that do you?

As always, if you enjoy #ThePhilFactor feel free to share it by hitting the Facebook, Twitter, or re-blog buttons below. Have a great Tuesday! ~Phil

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: driveaccord.net

Picture credit: driveaccord.net

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: blog.memberclicks.com

Picture credit: blog.memberclicks.com

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