I’m Done with Myrtle Beach

myrtle beach

I’ve given Myrtle Beach 3 tries and I’m done. I drove down here Wednesday with my sister and her boyfriend to move my son into the dorms.  Not only did I cry into my French toast today at breakfast, but also the entire way back to our shithole condo. Now that I’ve washed away the 4 layers of running mascara, I’m ready to rant.

North or South Myrtle Beach?

I was told my mistake was staying in the South part of the Myrtle Beach strip. Ok, so this time I tried the North part. What was carefully concealed is that the Northside is just a small patch of million-dollar homes that quickly revert back to the run-down, shithole towers, mirroring the South part. It clearly doesn’t matter if we were in the South or North part as the same 30-something male on a Huffy bike will roll into our elevator and press the floor button that corresponds with his unit. #lux

Prior to our jaunty to the Carolinas, I meticulously sorted through page after page of Air BnBs as well as VRBOs to find an updated condo that didn’t look like the Golden Girls had been there. At last, I found one that looked pretty cool. It was one bedroom but not only had a Murphy bed but a sofa bed, sleeping a total of 6. Because we don’t live in West Virginia, my son could have his own bed while I had mine and my sister and her boyfriend could make sweet love in the bedroom. Eww gross, I just threw up in my mouth.

First Impressions

The first room you walked into in this condo was the bedroom. With one-bedroom condos in Myrtle Beach, this is very common. Apparently, the cleaning staff wanted to provide ambiance because there was a lit candle. I thought that was stupid and dangerous so I blew it out before I forgot it was lit.

As I moved into the living room I realized it was an awkward setup. Despite being an incredibly small living room, the owners clearly thought they were decorating the West Wing of Versailles. The petite living room had, and I kid you not, a 4-person table, 4 chairs, 2 full sofas, a coffee table, an end table and a dresser with a fish tank. All in this fun-size room. The icing on the cake were the two 60″ televisions that were mounted on opposite sides of the room. I don’t know what baffled me more, all of the furniture crammed into one room, the 2 TVs or the fish tank. I decided on the fish tank as I quickly realized there were absolutely no fish in the tank. They weren’t even hiding and I was a little disappointed.

The “kitchen” or as I would refer to as the wet bar, consisted of a sink, stove, microwave and fridge. I opened the fridge to discover the following:

  • 10 bottles of a liver supplement
  • 1/3 bottle of tequila
  • An over-sized Lunchable
  • Various condiments
  • Butter


The first thing I wanted to do was wash my face. I checked all the cupboards and no washcloths. After nine hours in a car, my blood began to boil, oh and I was hangry. I messaged the host and here was the exchange:
















I’m sorry, last time I checked I’m not a prisoner of war or in a 3rd world nation. Let me get this straight, you want me to use the bath mat to wash off my Cerave from my face? Or the towels used to remove pubic hairs from the toilet? Hard pass sir.


As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m an extremely patient person. I put up with sometimes too much shit until I don’t anymore and lose my shit. Our first night was one of those nights when I went to make the Murphy bed for my son. Though the Air BnB listed it as a 3-bed condo, thanks to all the shit they crammed into the fun-size living room, it was physically impossible to also pull out the sofa bed. Given that most sofa bed mattresses have the thickness of a panty liner, I wasn’t too disappointed to just sleep on the couch.

sheets3I opened the top drawer of the dresser in the living room. It was nothing but tools and miscellaneous. I pulled open the second one and it was empty. The third drawer had one folded sheet while the second sheet was balled up. I made my way to the bedroom only to find more balled-up sheets and a sheet that was folded….with a blood stain. This is when I pulled out my phone and began to go rounds with the owner.

sheets2Pretty sure I was speaking English and yet he couldn’t wrap his head around that there weren’t any clean sheets on the sofa bed. He asked me no less than 3 times if clean sheets were on the sofa bed and even after a picture with the sofa bed not having sheets, he still didn’t get it.

Myrtle Beach Hotels

Myrtle Beach hotel prices are out of control. How is it that I can stay at a swanky hotel on the Upper East side of Manhattan for the same price as a Hampton Inn in Myrtle Beach? The clientele of Myrtle Beach can barely afford a pack of cigarettes so I find it hard to believe they are forking out $400 a night for a 3-star hotel. I’ve Googled it, I’ve asked an Air BnB host and I still can’t get a straight answer. If Netflix is looking for any documentary ideas, this would be one I’d like them to cover.

My son has 4 years left at this college so given that I’ve sworn off the primary place of accommodations, I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. I don’t camp however maybe this is a good time to look into it. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about bed bugs or misspelled calve tattoos.

P.S. After naming this and rereading my rant, I realized it was mostly about the condo. Though maybe I should have named this post something about renting an Air BnB, I still strongly stand behind not going back to Myrtle Beach.

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