I do have to say though there was one cheaper motel that did not nastify me.
It was after we had been married for a year. The place: Texas, on our way to San Antonio on a roadtrip with our friends Andy and Dacia. We have flown into Dallas to spend a long weekend with them and after we sent our friend Angel home on another plane (right after ours got in), we hopped into their miniscule Honda Civic (at 8:00ish pm) and started to drive to San Antonio.
San Antonio is not that close to Dallas.
In case you ever wondered.
A little past midnight (I really don’t know. It was like 10 years ago–but it was late and we had been traveling for a while), we decided that we had had enough of the car. We pulled off and started to look for a place to stay.
The plan was that Dacia and I were going to go in, rent a room for 2, and sneak the guys in, so we would only have to pay for 2.
Yeah, we were totally honest, good Christian girls.
We stopped at a Ramada or something similar and there wasn’t anything vacant, so we kept driving.
Driving around town, we found a motel named Dwight’s Motel. And the best feature they advertised was COLOR TV.
Isn’t that AWESOME?!?
We shoulda stopped.
But we didn’t.
We kept driving.
To a place that shall remain nameless.
Why? Because I don’t remember its name.
But it was a big German Haus.
|image courtesy of jay-dee 7478|
And it didn’t look like this
When Dacia and I got to the front door, it was locked.
So we rang the doorbell, and an old German lady in her housecoat and with curlers in her hair came to the door. She let us in and asked us what we wanted. We told her we needed a room for …..4 (the guys were going to be walking in the front door past this lady before she locked us in).
Me in a hushed and frantic whisper–Dacia, we have to tell her 4.
Dacia–Ummmmm yeah, I know. There’s 4 of us.
German Lady–Ja. What’s your license plate?
Me–Texas, No, I mean Minnesota.
German Lady–You drove all the way from Iowa?
Dacia–No, my husband and I live in Texas, but our car is from Iowa (joys of being college students and the title being under your parents)
Me–And we just got here from Minnesota. (good job Gianna! Way to confuse her more!)
After we checked in, we all traipsed in with our stuff and unloaded it in our room.
Let me tell you that these rooms were the most remarkable I have been in.
First of all the wall were stark white. STARK WHITE!
The wall decorations were old calendar pages ripped apart (okay, let’s give them the benefit of the doubt. They were cut apart) and thumbtacked to the wall above the beds. One for each bed.
One of them was the Taj Mahal.
Because what German Haus doesn’t have a picture of the Taj Mahal from INDIA?
The next morning, while the guys (who we so truthfully notified the hotel of) checked us out, the lobby was blaring polka music.
Their continental breakfast? Stale Hydrox cookies placed on a doily upon a silver tray.
The only thing better than the Nameless German Haus would have been Dwight’s Motel.