Recently, we had a plumbing leak in our bathroom followed by a roadtrip across the country for our final move with the Air Force so we’ve spent a lot of time in hotels the past month. Some of them were great and some were really, really not great.
One memorable moment came from a Hampton Inn somewhere in New Mexico. The hotel lobby was under construction but that didn’t bother us in the least since we were only going to be there for a few hours before hitting the road again.
The room was nice enough but the real problem came when it was time to empty out the gallons of soda and beef jerky that I had consumed during the drive.
Let me preface this by saying that I have potty issues. When my husband and I were first married, it was a solid three months before I would use the bathroom if he was in the house. Even then, I would only pee. After 6 months or so, I got to where I could grab a novel and set up camp but only if I went to the upstairs guest bathroom and only if I pretended that I was doing something else. I can’t even begin to count the number of “spontaneous” baths that I ran to cover the sounds of a post-taco dinner gastrointestinal symphony. I had never intentionally farted in front of my husband until the second trimester of my first pregnancy and it has been open season ever since. Now I can even brave public restrooms if my bladder is about to explode. Number two is a whole different story…
So there we are, after hours on the road, each in a separate car, and we had reached the point of exhaustion that we would have slept on the side of the road if we could have stretched out even the tiniest bit (our cars were both stuffed completely full). The Happenspouse, Badger, was excited to sleep in a real bed, I was excited to have a private bathroom where I didn’t have to worry about someone walking in during a crescendo.
It took me about five seconds to realize that a man designed this bathroom, checked to make sure there was enough room to pee standing up, and called it good.
I know that I’m not a small person and I don’t expect the world to perfectly fit me at all times, but this was ridiculous. Badger, who isn’t a big guy, assured me that I wasn’t crazy as he had a little trouble using the bathroom as well. He only had a problem getting the toilet paper off of the roll, I had to completely remove the thing just to sit down comfortably. So there I was, holding the toilet paper roll and spring loaded rod thingie when my hand slipped and half of the rod shot across the room like a rocket, but not before smacking me right between the eyes. I felt like I was in a sitcom.
Here’s a toilet paper roll sitting on the counter just to give you an idea of how ridiculous the spatial divisions really were.
Once I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to have a pleasant bathroom experience, I got ready for bed.
And then I noticed this:
I hadn’t wondered about the cleanliness of the room until this point. Badger and I tried to figure out if this was a weird corporate thing to set people at ease but it was an actual post-it note stuck to the headboard of the bed and we still aren’t sure if it was supposed to be there or if someone had left it behind.
And then I started to wonder about the pillows. Sure, the duvet and sheets may be clean, but I don’t rub my face on them for 8 hours. Usually we just bring our own pillows but we had left them in the car and neither of us were going to go back for them. If you can’t lower your standards on a roadtrip, when can you? Never, that’s when.
The bed was comfortable, we missed breakfast but I assume it was fine, and overall it was a decent room but come on, Hampton Inn. When people are driving far enough to need a hotel room, and paying quite a bit for it, they want to be able to conduct their business with comfort and ease. At least the Super 8 we stayed at had adequate knee clearance, I barely had enough elbow room there to get in a full level of Candy Crush. The Super 8 was a little run down and the shampoo smelled funny but being able to make poopsie-doops without bruising my legs on a toilet paper holder is way higher on my priority list. Well, that and clearing level 127; I was just hoping to kill two birds with one stone and failed at both. Thanks, Hampton Inn.