Having narrowly escaped the hotel of the dogs and bedbugs, I was now homeless. With the toxic smell of caulking filling the back of the truck, that wasn't an option for the next 24 hours. Rainy days and being in a big city meant camping was out. Hotel it had to be.
I called around. Three in my price range (under $100, the further under the better.) One was full. Bummer- it had great Yelp reviews. The Travel Inn was $80, tax included, but required a $20 refundable deposit. Both Yelp and the BBB warned it was a dive with bad service, and that getting the deposit refunded could be a challenge.
That left the Chelsea Inn Hotel. $80 plus tax.
I arrived and it looked ok. Nothing fantastic, but cheap and clean. Not a scary neighborhood.
I go in, talk to the counter lady. She seems nice. I ask to see the room, and she says yes. Ugh. Smells like smoke. She apologizes, they don't allow smoking, but someone must have snuck it. I ask if there are other rooms. She says yes, but they have more beds so cost $10 more. She shows me one. It's definitely nicer, but I can't afford the extra right now. I'm already pushing the budget with the hotel room at all.
So I take the smelly room. I arrange for my customary late check out (noon instead of 11) - she agrees to that. I grab the key, go in to open the windows and air it out. First two windows, no problem. Third window doesn't have a screen. Oh well, I'll just lock it and use the two.
There's no lock.
This is a first floor room. The street and sidewalk are RIGHT there. It's a bit up from the ground, but not much. I look out. There's a ledge halfway up. Are they TRYING to get broken into?
I go outside. I need to test this. I jump up on the ledge- easy enough. I go to the first window- this is the lobby. Ok. Count down, my room is next... Try the window. Dude comes at me, shouting! Shit! Not my room!
I apologize profusely. He seems unimpressed. I move on. He closes his curtains. I test MY window. It opens. Not good.
I go back inside, explain to the nice lady at the desk the problem. The room is not secure. I ask if I can have the other room for the cheaper price, since this room is faulty.
No.
I ask if I can have a refund. Maybe I'll try Travel Inn anyway.
No.
Please?
No.
Can I talk to the manager?
No.
I try to problem solve with her. She's not having it. She's getting agitated. She says I can talk to the manager about a refund in the morning. This doesn't help me, for obvious reasons. If she says no, I'm really screwed.
Who is the manager anyway?
This is her card.
This says Assistant manager. What about the manager?
There isn't one.
There isn't a manager? Only an assistant?
Yes.
(With a laugh) That seems silly.
This, apparently is the last straw. She loses all humor. Clearly angry, she asks what I'm going to do.
I decide to take the more expensive room (these windows don't lock either, but it's on the 2nd floor). I state I'd like to discuss with the manager in the morning about refunding the difference, since it really is the hotel's negligence. She says that's fine and will probably work. I try to apologize for upsetting her. She's having none of it, tells me I was rude to her. I really hadn't been. Never raised my voice. I knew it wasn't her fault. But she was offended and there was no fixing it.
I spend the night at the hotel. It's a rough night for personal, emotional reasons and I don't get a lot of sleep. But that's not on them. The night clerk is super nice, very apologetic that they don't have an ice machine...
In the morning I get up and meet up with my friend Caitlin, who has been in Alaska a few hours north visiting a friend. She's flying out of Anchorage, and we meet up for brunch before she leaves. It's a good time. I'm in a positive mood.
As I come back, I notice the original woman who checked me in behind the desk. That's odd- she's said the manager (sorry, assistant manager) would be in in the morning. Oh well. Maybe they're both around. I don't want to deal with that til I'm checking out.
I get back to the hotel, take a shower, pack most of my stuff up. It's just 11:00 now. Great. I have time for a short nap before I need to be out at noon.
Just as I'm falling asleep, the room phone rings. It's the lady at the desk telling me it's 11:00 and I need to leave. I remind her that we had arranged for a late check out the morning before. She tells me that check out time is 11, and if I want to stay later, it will cost $10 an hour. I say, no, you agreed to this last night. She hangs up on me. I call back. She does not answer.
I get dressed and to out to the lobby. She's behind the desk. I ask for the (assistant) manager. She tells me that she called in sick. She says I have to get out. I tell her I'm not going to do that. She says I have to. I say no. She she says they have the right to refuse service to anyone and I have to go. I say no and head back to my room. She says she'll call the police. I say to go ahead.
I get back to my room and call my credit card company. I tell them what's going on and that I need to make sure they don't try to make any further charges to my card. They say they won't allow it. I explain about how I was supposed to get the extra $10 back. They say they can take care of that for me. Nice.
As I'm saying goodbye to the credit card lady, there is a knock on the door. I look in the peephole. Nothing there. I finish packing up. Another knock. I look. Nothing. I wait. Another knock and someone says 'Mr Allard?'
Me: Yes?
Voice: Anchorage Police.
My god. She actually called them.
Me: I can't see you.
Police: Can you open the door.
Me: Can I see your badge, please?
A paper badge appears in the peephole. That's odd. Oh well, good enough. I open the door.
Good Cop: Mr Allard?
Me: Yes
GC: The hotel called. They say you were paid up through 11am and you need to leave.
Me: (Long explanation about the late check out)
GC: Well, they want you to leave now.
Me: Ok. Are YOU saying I have to leave? I have a lot of respect for the police, and if you say I have to go, I'll go. But if you aren't saying that, and only the hotel staff is, then I'm not going to leave.
Bad Cop: What we're saying is that the hotel would like you to leave. And since your time has expired, you are technically trespassing by being here.
Me: So you, the police, are saying I have to go? I'm not trying to be difficult, but I want to understand.
BC: I don't see why it's so difficult to understand. Will you leave?
Me: Yes. Because you are insisting.
BC: (entering the room) Do you have any weapons?
Me: No.
BC: Guns, knives, anything.
Me: No. Definitely not.
Why does everyone worry about me having weapons?!
I grab my bags and head out, the police following me. The desk lady watching.
I load my stuff into the truck as the cops wait for me, and suddenly realize something. I've left my toothbrush and toothpaste inside. I debate what to do, and approach the police cars. I have the instinct to put my hands over my head, but I don't. They get out.
Me: I just realized I left my toothbrush and toothpaste inside, and I didn't think I should just go in. I didn't want to upset you.
GC: You wouldn't upset us, you would upset them.
What is with this specificity?
They say I can go get it, but they have to go with me. Possibly the first time ever someone has had a police escort to get their toothpaste and toothbrush.
I get my things and go. Being very sure to signal appropriately as I exit the parking lot.
I had no idea the Good Cop/Bad Cop routine was so ingrained! Or maybe the guy was just a dick.
So. That's how I got thrown out of a hotel by the police today.
Labels: Chelsea inn hotel, Good cop bad cop, no locks on the windows