The Bates Motel

Several years ago, Loretta, a blogger friend of mine from Cleveland, was coming to Houston. While in Texas, I thought it would be nice to meet her, and so did several other Austin area people who followed her blog. I set out to find her a motel, as she has a cat allergy and couldn't stay with me.

The motel I found was cheap (her requirement) and within a stone's throw of the intersection of 290 and IH 35, which meant she could find it easily, coming in from Houston. It was one of a chain in which Jim and I had stayed, and we had decided that the one in San Antonio was pretty good, for the price.

The one in Austin was not as good, in fact, I even offered to stay there with her and her little boy because the place had such an unprepossessing air. She joked about it later, and wrote on her blog that I had made her a reservation at the Bates Motel.

Well, Kharma is a wonderful thing. This place, known as the Economy Inn, on Seawall Blvd. in Galveston is so much worse.

For a start, there is practically no Sprint Mobile service. I have not got above 10% all evening. The room is small and the beds, hard. There is no desk. Bilious grey dolphins cavort through pink flowers all around the top of the walls. The shampoo comes in little packets, and I got a mouthful of the stuff trying to open it. There is no bathmat and the towels are sandpaper. However I could live with that if the place were clean and in good repair. There are actual holes in the sheet rock and the curtains are torn. The phone doesn't work. The handle fell off the hot water faucet, and I had to turn the shower on and off several times before I could get water out of it that was neither too hot nor too cold. There are suspicious red marks in several places around the room. They could be nail polish...or ketchup...or...

There are no lamps--just a ceiling fixture. I'm afraid to turn it off, because I have already killed several roaches that appear to ooze out from behind the smeared mirror. There are greasy spatters all over the one sad picture, and a huge crack across the bathroom mirror.

When Brendan and I were travelling last summer, the cheapest and worst place we stayed was less than half the price of this one, and it (at least) was clean. I am trying not to think about the mildew in the shower and the gross places behind the toilet.

If Aidan hadn't been dripping sea water when we checked in, I would have checked right back out, but, as it is, I don't think one night here will kill us.

But Kharma is kicking my butt!