Lessons Learned from Motel Stays

I’ve stayed in a lot of motel rooms over the years as I’ve traveled to here and there. Some rooms have been quite comfortable, providing restful nights of sleep, a feeling of safety, and unexpected amenities; some motel stays have resulted in nights where I remained awake, unable to sleep due to a level of noise that rivaled a rock concert or a theme park; and some have been an experiment in terror, rooms with windows that were kept closed with a piece of wood or a metal pole wedged into place, chain locks on doors that were loose and falling off, darkened doorways where I would have to hassle with the door key, and rooms with loud strangers that sounded drunk and angry passing by the door and window. Over time, I’ve learned a thing or two about what motels to stay at and what room to stay in once I get there. But, I’ve also learned a few things about motel features and practices.

It didn’t take long to realize that motels have fewer vacancies near the holidays when more people are traveling and that the rental costs per night increase in peak season and on the weekends.

It only took a couple of motel registrations to make it a habit to take a peak at the license plate on my vehicle prior to approaching the motel desk clerk who would inevitably ask that a registration form be filled out that asked for the license plate number. Who wants to make an additional trip outside just for a license plate number, particularly in the colder months, when one is fatigued and merely wants to sleep?

In no time at all, it was easy to figure out that “continental breakfast” typically means coffee, doughnuts, and muffins, although many motels have dramatically improved their breakfast offerings over recent years to include milk, juice, biscuits, and eggs. Some motels even have pancake and waffle makers that will allow a customer to make their own breakfast right there in the lobby.

It didn’t take long to learn that the air conditioning units usually blow the curtains open–sometimes at the most inopportune moments–but that a simple solution is attaching the two curtains with a hair clip.

Most motel rooms look quite similar, a bed, a round table with a chair or two, and a bedside table where the phone and an alarm clock will sit. Inside the bedside table drawer there will be a Bible and at least one phonebook that has usually been scribbled on and the corner of the front cover torn off. There are never enough lights to truly light the room, but there always seems to be a standing light in the corner, a double-wall light above the bedside table, a light in the bathroom, and a wall light located somewhere on the wall near the main door. The air conditioning unit usually sits beneath the curtains and the television is typically welded to a set of dresser drawers that line the wall across from the bed. There’s always one trashcan beneath the sink, which sits on the opposite side of the bathroom door than the rest of the bathroom fixtures. If the room has a second trashcan, it’s likely at the end of the set of dresser drawers supporting the television, facing the main room door. Somewhere there must surely be a blueprint followed by every motel in regards to how the items within each room are to be situated.

Travelers can expect there to be at least one cigarette burn in either the tub or the sink, even if the room is non-smoking. And, for some for odd reason I have yet to understand, it seems to be mandated that each motel room bathroom have at least one tile that is either loose or missing.

But, for all the lessons I quickly learned, there was one mystery that required years of time and a series of strange events to unravel: The mystery of the motel room clothing hangers.

Motel hangers are usually a combination of metal and wood that appear, at first, to be permanently attached to a metal bar that sits beneath a small shelf that is a wonderful location to store a suitcase out of one’s way. For years, I hassled with those hangers, wondering why the motels were so worried that someone would steal them that they permanently attached the hangers to the room in such a manner that they were rendered nearly useless. During each stay, I would unpack my carefully folded items and reluctantly walk toward the motel hangers. Then, the ritual of pushing and pulling and stretching clothing items would begin as I attempted to use the motel hangers (the rooms didn’t typically have ironing boards then). Any shirt or blouse that was not a button-down was immediately put at risk of snags and tears.

One day, however, I dropped a blouse while trying to hang it up. After bending down to pick it up, I stood in such a way so that I was able to actually see the bar to which the hangers were attached, and the secret was revealed.

The hangers are held in place by a bulb at the top of the hanger that sits within a hole in the bar. Alongside the bar, though, is a series of vertical slits. To remove the hanger, and thereby make it much more user-friendly, one needs only move the hanger so that the bulb is seen through the slit and then pull the hanger out of the bar through the slit. It’s so simple; and to think I nearly punctured so many garments over the years while hassling unnecessarily with those hangers.

Recently, I encountered a motel with a digital air conditioning unit, a unit that allows the temperature of the room to be increased or decreased by actual numbers altered with a simple punch of a button instead of a guess-the-best-you-can dial with merely a warmer-to-cooler arrow. So, after all of these lessons that have been learned, I have but to wonder what other lessons I will need to learn as motels continue to change and evolve.