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| - I am writing this from my new, comfy, spacious roomI am writing this from my new, comfy, spacious room at a Scottsdale resort, which, ironically, is cheaper than this Extended Stay Motel (How can you call this dump a hotel??). Let me start by saying that this particular location is a combo of The Bates Motel meets the gateway to hell. I've never stayed at an Extended Stay until now, and I never will again.
Firstly, I was lured in with a low rate for the snowbird season, which increased threefold upon early checkout. The price per night is an absolute ripoff given that it is crawling with creepy, crackhead types. The price is on par with more upscale resorts, which is mind-boggling.
As I pulled into the parking lot after a long day of travel, I felt like I was pulling into a motel alongside an airport highway. I was delirious from sleeplessness, so even after I was showed their model room fit only to commit suicide in, I signed the contract and reluctantly handed over my credit card.
As I opened the door of the room and looked around at the worn-out, shabby furnishings, complete with a double bed (not king or queen) specially set aside for my boyfriend and I, I was reminded of a classic Bukowski novel. The rug was dirty. The appliances were old, and you couldn't get to the toilet or bathtub without maneuvering around the bathroom door. It was like hitting rock bottom.
To make a long story short, I payed for a week, but after two days of being unable to sleep in my tiny bed with my boyfriend in my bleak surroundings, I left. I insisted on a refund, although my rate per night increased. Warren, the gentleman at the front desk during my afternoon departure (and I am being egregiously generous by saying gentleman because he is more like a ticking time bomb in a button up shirt) would not give me more than a half hour to pack and leave, lest I was charged another night. He was actually complementary to the equally creepy Bradley.
If you didn't get the point up until this point....DON'T EVER STAY HERE unless a vacation for you is scratching your skin relentlessly from paranoia over the gross room. at a Scottsdale resort, which, ironically, is cheaper than this Extended Stay Motel (How can you call this dump a hotel??). Let me start by saying that this particular location is a combo of The Bates Motel meets the gateway to hell. I've never stayed at an Extended Stay until now, and I never will again.
Firstly, I was lured in with a low rate for the snowbird season, which increased threefold upon early checkout. The price per night is an absolute ripoff given that it is crawling with creepy, crackhead types. The price is on par with more upscale resorts, which is mind-boggling.
As I pulled into the parking lot after a long day of travel, I felt like I was pulling into a motel alongside an airport highway. I was delirious from sleeplessness, so even after I was showed their model room fit only to commit suicide in, I signed the contract and reluctantly handed over my credit card.
As I opened the door of the room and looked around at the worn-out, shabby furnishings, complete with a double bed (not king or queen) specially set aside for my boyfriend and I, I was reminded of a classic Bukowski novel. The rug was dirty. The appliances were old, and you couldn't get to the toilet or bathtub without maneuvering around the bathroom door. It was like hitting rock bottom.
To make a long story short, I payed for a week, but after two days of being unable to sleep in my tiny bed with my boyfriend in my bleak surroundings, I left. I insisted on a refund, although my rate per night increased. Warren, the gentleman at the front desk during my afternoon departure (and I am being egregiously generous by saying gentleman because he is more like a ticking time bomb in a button up shirt) would not give me more than a half hour to pack and leave, lest I was charged another night. He was actually complementary to the equally creepy Bradley.
If you didn't get the point up until this point....DON'T EVER STAY HERE unless a vacation for you is scratching your skin relentlessly from paranoia over the gross room.
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