Our last hotel stay started out a little weird. It was the recommended hotel for a comic show we were attending. A bunch of other creators had stayed there before and said it was good. We checked in and got our keys to room 200. We walked up the stairs to the second floor and for a moment we couldn’t find where it was. “Maybe that skinny door back by the stairs leads to another section? Oh wait… it says 200 on this door.” What we found inside was a very worn down cinderblock room that was apparently the storage shed for their lawn service equipment up until the week prior to our arrival. Someone left one of their old mattresses under the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling and declared it a “room”.
We went back to the lobby to complain and the person behind the desk didn’t seem very surprised to see us. As he looked up a new room in the computer for us one of his coworkers walked by.
“Hey, these people don’t like their room. Guess which one it is?” Without a millisecond of thought he replied “200.”
I guess it’s some sort of game they play to see how many people they can get to never come to their hotel again?