We got home in the early evening on Tuesday and had a message to meet up with the Gebhardts later, so I was too beat to update. Fortunately, I had 400 and some miles to think about the best way to share our hotel story with you, so here it is – in the form of a poem.
The Priceline Kid
Made a bid,
foolishly clicking ‘one star’.
Hoped for a bump*,
Instead got a dump.
A smoky, dirty one star.**
To the front clerk,
“This won’t work.
Can you change it to no-smoking?”
“Nope, that’s it.
Sleep in the pit.”
Lloyd thought he must be joking.
Called HQ,
talked it through,
That Lloyd – he’s no sloucher.
Back to the desk,
fixed the mess,
he got us a free voucher.
“Bye” to there,
Drove to where,
We had reserved a new room.
Got it for free,
Much to my glee,
“no smoking” smelled like perfume.
* My bad memory thought that in the past when we had clicked on ‘one star’, it had bumped us up to a two or two-and-a-half. Note to self: Never click one star.
** I know it’s bad poetry to rhyme something with the exact same thing. Cut me some slack.