Travel Log- Day 3- My Issues With Hampton Inn, Covington, Ky

This morning I lost my shit. I was done. Done with with the shit hole motel we were assigned to, done with the ridiculous soccer schedule and done with the jacked up road system that is Southern Cincinnati.

P’s game this morning was at 8 am. Now, he had a game at 7:15 last night so we had roughly a 12 hour window between games to do things like sleep and eat. Oh wait, no…11 hours because the moron that scheduled these games didn’t take into account daylight savings time.

1. Last night I had washed P’s uniform in the sink.

“Why not take it to the washer and dryer on site like every motel/hotel has had since 1990, Hot Mess?”

Well folks, it’s because our motel was so ghetto-tastic that they didn’t have an f’ing washing machine/dryer on site. I get that they want to give you the whole experience of Kentucky and living by the Ohio river for a few nights but if they think for one second  I am taking my son’s uniform down to the Ohio river and washing it, they’ve got another thing coming.

After washing his uniform in the sink with the Tide Pods I had brought to use in a WASHING MACHINE, I rung out the uniform and hung it up to dry for 6 hours. 6 hours later itwas still damp so I had to use the hair dryer that was connected to the wall to dry it. This became a challenge considering 3 other people had to use the restroom and 1/2 of the time it was to shit.

2. Liquor City

I cannot get over that there is literally a liquor store in the parking lot. What the hell was Paris Hilton thinking when she chose this land……oh….now I get it. Well that makes sense:

I actually saw the liquor store as a perk except for the occasional hobo in the parking lot. All I wanted was a good Cab and didn’t want any trouble.

3. Possessed coffee maker

Yesterday morning  I fished through the 3 foil packets only to discover they were all decaf. I heard the Housekeeper in the hall so I approached her for regular. This decaf thing was pretty cruel. She was helping an older Gentleman who heard my question. He went back into his room, 610 and returned 15 seconds later with his regular coffee packets. I thanked him and returned to my room.

I began making my coffee. All went well until I grabbed the completed cup and was burnt by a sudden burst of air that caused hot water to splash on my arm. I’m not Mc Donalds and the hot pickle incident but I did rip the machine out of the wall and took the little ass hole down to the front desk. Normally this would be the point in time they would offer me a complimentary dinner, breakfast or free wifi but seeing we were in a hovel, the front desk clerk had NOTHING to offer me. She simply took it and said she would get me a new one.

4. Half cleaned room

I think I’m a pretty good hotel guest. I tip all the time, clean up after myself and make sure everything is picked up so my room can be cleaned properly. After returning to our room after the first soccer game, I hit the restroom in our room. I deduced that our room had been cleaned as we had fresh towels, the trash was removed and they did the following tacky thing with our shower curtain:

I walked into the room afterwards and found the bed completely unmade. What the hell? Not only are we paying $75 more than what this room is worth but now what do I do? If I go out to the Housekeeper who’s making $7.35 an hour and declare, “You didn’t make my bed. You need to get back in my room and make it,” I am going to feel like one of those bitches in The Help. I wondered how many other people didn’t have their bed made. I’m guessing the carpet wasn’t swept either.

Because she did hook me up with extra toiletries that I had requested (my hair requires a TON of shampoo) I decided to not say anything and just make it myself.

5. Bathroom odor

Starting last night, our bathroom began to smell as if someone was on their period. I’m not on mine and no other female as visited our room except the cleaning lady. I was not going to dig through the trash can either to confirm this theory. There was nothing we could do. My youngest, C, declared this morning while wrinkling his nose, “Mom, what is that smell?” I couldn’t wound him for life and tell him what I thought it smelled like. I just had to empathize with him and count the hours down till we were gone.

6. The icing on the cake

I went on Trip Advisor this evening to see if other had had similar experiences or if I was just being a brat. I was horrified to find the following review:

OUR ROOM WAS 611.