Night 21 – Have you heard of the Davis Hotel?

This is David.

This is Laura.

Well, I had a pretty good run.

Except for the wonderful nights that we stayed at family or friends houses, all through this trip we stayed mostly in Mom & Pop motels. I researched (2017-speak for “Googled”) before we left, weighing price (target: $50-$80), reviews, and location. And here we were on our 21st night and we hadn’t had one stinker in the bunch. In fact, the cheaper and more “Mom and Pop-ier” the hotel, the more we liked the place. The times that we stayed in name-brand hotel chains were almost always a letdown.

So here comes our last night. I had chosen a place called The Davis Motel.

The Davis Motel. The man at the desk couldn’t be nicer.

I had my doubts when I clicked my mouse to confirm the reservation a month ago. Yet still, I clicked. Now, a month later, I was right about having doubts.

This is the Davis Motel.

The man in the office had a cool clock circa 1930 that had a wakeup call feature which I thought Jack would love, so I asked David to take a picture of the man and the clock.

Yeah, the man at the desk (let’s give him a name … how about “Lenny”?) was super friendly. But still I was concerned … even as he took my credit card and printed out my receipt for $66.45.

The man gives us the key to Room 5 and we walk to the door. The “No Smoking” sign on the door is askew.

For days I had been telling Laura and Max I had serious doubts about the Davis Hotel. Max would say, “It’ll be fine, Dad. You did the research,” and Laura would say, “Every other place was great … and this one will be great, too.” I would nod and say, “We’ll see.”

We go inside, and it’s smokey. And it looks like it needs some decorating tips from Martha Stewart.

Smoky? It wreaks. The walls are cheap paneling. It’s as dark as a cave. Decorating tips? The walls are bare. It might as well be a storage unit. I look at Laura and say, “I’m telling you right now, EVERY room is going to smell this bad.” Laura says, “This is going to be fine,” but I can see her heart isn’t in it. And I know. It’s not going to be fine. I tried to convince myself it would be, but I knew it wouldn’t.

David looks at me and decides to talk to the man in the office if there’s a less smokier room.

Actually, what I told our buddy Lenny was, “I’m guessing every room smells like our room, right?” and Lenny says, “Well … we can look at Room 3.” But I know it’s futile. So does Lenny. Still, we continue the charade.

The next room was better—

No it wasn’t, Laura. You’re being nice to spare my feelings. Room 3 actually had three beds crammed into the same room and the smell … well let’s just say the putrid smell of stale cigarette smoke seemed to be pumped into each and every room of the Davis Hotel.

We decided to move on.

Lenny and I look at each other. Lenny says, “It’s not for everyone.” He refunds my credit card.

We move down he street to our upmarket Holiday Inn Express. I know I am “home” because there is a copy of the USA Today at the check-in desk. All is right with the world.

I feel like I’ve escaped this guy, who was probably staying in Room 4.