My first glimpse of what my night would be like was the huge, bearded drunk guy that stared at me while taking long swigs out of his long-neck bud. He watched me while I unloaded my car then slurred as I walked passed: "HEY, HEY, where's a good place to eat. But I'm on foot, now. I just walked here from Maryville, wherever the *expletive* that is." I mentioned this to the desk clerk but she seemed unconcerned.
When I opened the door to my room there were two things that immediately grabbed my attention: the smell and the texture of the floor. The smell was a medley of smoke and body odor. The carpet was matted down flat and sticky; walking on it barefooted was like walking on flypaper.
But my wife and I decided that we would make the best of it. So we tucked in our 4 year old and were fast asleep by 9:15 PM (we slept 1:15 minutes that night) . We were awakened at 10:30PM by the gentleman in the next room who received a phone call from what I assumed to have been one of his ‘coworkers’. His voice boomed through the thin wall that divided his room from our. He was soon joined by several others who droned on in angry baritones till 5:46AM (I am accurate about the time because I was watching the clock). Outside in the courtyard others were audible; male and female voices, some angry some jovial. What they were saying however was indistinct because of their accent which I will simply describe as primeval. Young women in tight clothing klick-claked up and down the concrete stairs all night.
Just to give some background, I spent time in El Salvador back in the ‘90s and saw quite a few things. I never stayed in a hotel there that was half as bad as the Quality Inn. Why did we not leave? We were simply afraid to leave the room.
Now they have my credit card number and are billing it claiming that I stayed there on other dates when I was nowhere near the wretched town. Where will it end?
- Quality Inn Georgetown
- Georgetown Quality Inn
