This place is dim, grungy, mega-dank, and just ewww! The fact that it was recently demoted to a Rodeway Inn says everything. The demotion is also quite sad for the surrounding area and its businesses, which have taken collective efforts to improve Covina and attempt a status quo that could buoy the thuggish ruggish town's reputation. But the Clarion is a like a crab in a barrel, dragging down all attempts at civilization.

As you pull up, the splotches of mismatched salmon paint are a dead giveaway that class is far from the interests of the hotel's owner(s). The lobby may not be the end of the universe, but the elevator is definitely where the universe ends and hell begins.

As torn back as a Tenderloin street-walker, the elevator jolts and quakes as it creaks up to its called floor. I stepped out onto a set of towels, placed over a wet spot that had long defeated dryness. The inland's arid wind kicked up the scents of a mangy carpet and Marlboros past.

If you've been to Watts' Jordan Downs or New Orleans' Magnolia Projects, you've been to the Clarion/Rodeway Inn in West Covina. (Ok, fine. So I've personally never been to either of those projects of Google-worthy comparison, but neither have you, so just take in my point and let my feet away from the fire already.)

Once in the room, the egg-colored paint on the walls further deepens mistrust. The crumbling ceilings and tatted up furniture don't help either. Buuuuuuut--the beds are actually cozy, perhaps from being broken-in by repeated use. The fact that the sheets didn't make me itch is not just a bonus; it's a miracle.

And I was well-deserving of a blessing at that moment; only a few hours after oral surgery, I was bereft of the energy it would've taken to book and zombie-walk elsewhere. Barring desperation, I would have definitely escaped to cleaner quarters, whether or not it would have meant forfeiting the Choice Hotels free night award I had used to book the room.

The off-brand television was new, at least. And it was excellent for color streaked TV-viewing.

I was given a voucher for free breakfast, but there was no way I was eating ANYthing at this mo-mo of ill repute. The thought alone gives me the heebie-geebies. Ugh!