Well, this place killed my long-time affection for "quaint' roadside motels. Stunk badly of some kind of air-freshener, bleak, broken down, horribly stained carpet, no glasses, no housekeeping, you could see day-light through the crack in the door that didn't have a deadbolt or catch. There was some kind of on-going odd sporadic bumpy activity going on in the room next to mine most of the night. Interesting duct-tape work around the air-conditioner! Charles Bukowski would have walked in and said "nope" for crying out loud. Creepy people milling around. I was hoping to save a little dough and instead got horribly, perhaps permanently depressed.
