Bobbie's Beat: Readers respond to motel story

If you caught the recent column about surprising my husband on his birthday by taking him (blind-folded) to an X-rated Hollywood motel, then you should know (as I did) that there would be reader reaction.  There were several emails from old friends who essentially said the same thing: “Only you would come up with such a crazy idea for Burt.”

Then other folks responded, and all have asked to remain anonymous. Here goes: “We went to a seedy motel in Eugene, and it was exactly like the one you described in your column.” Or this one: “I could barely get through your story without barfing because I’m a total germ-a-phobic, but then I started laughing so hard I had to go to the bathroom.”

This email is from a retired airline pilot who asked to be anonymous. Here is his story:
“Your last article brought back a vivid memory. Flying in and out of Los Angeles, flight crews stayed at a motel in Redondo Beach that catered to airline pilots and flight attendants. When checking in, I asked the desk clerk if I could get a room upgrade on my next flight in because I would be bringing my wife. He agreed, and on my next arrival, my wife and I were given our room key by a clerk who had a slight grin on his face.  Opening the door to our room, both of us were very surprised to see a round bed with mirrored ceiling.  This must have been the honeymoon suite. My wife asked jokingly, ‘Do you get this room every time you stay here?’ We did not let that fancy room go to waste.”

  • ••

Readers send so much funny stuff I thought I’d include this one, although it might be an urban legend:

By the time John pulled into a little town, every hotel room was taken. He pleaded with the hotel manager, “You’ve got to have a room somewhere — or just a bed. I’m totally exhausted.”

“Well, I do have a double room with one occupant, but to tell you the truth, he snores so loudly that people in adjoining rooms have complained all week. I’m not sure it would be worth it to you.”

“No problem,” the tired traveler assured him. “I’ll take it.”

The next morning, John came down to breakfast bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. The manager asked him how he survived. “Never better,” said John, and the manager was very impressed.

“No problem with the snoring?”   

“Nope, I shut him up in no time.”

“How did you manage that?”  

“Well, he was already snoring away when I came into the room,” John said. “I went over, gave him a kiss on the cheek, said ‘Sweet dreams, beautiful,’ and he sat up all night watching me.”

  • ••

Then came an email from another commercial pilot:

“When I was flying one of our international routes, our layover was in Manila. On arriving in the hotel lobby, I was surprised to be greeted by the hotel manager. He informed me that the co-pilot and I would have to share a room, as the hotel was completely booked. I said no way, our contract calls for private rooms. He said if you don’t share you can sleep in the lobby — but before you get too excited, let me escort you to the room I have selected for you. We went into the elevator, he placed a key into an unmarked floor number and up we went. Stepping out we saw a pair of double hand-carved doors. On each side of the door were exotic plants. Now we knew something special was afoot. Entering we found ourselves in the presidential suite. Each of us had our own private bedroom suite. There was a suite for servants, a grand piano in the living room, and a full gourmet kitchen with a separate dining room. This suite covered the entire top floor of the hotel. A most enjoyable layover; too bad it lasted only about eight hours as we were due out early the next morning.”

  • ••

This one is an oldie from my files:

Planning to visit a Midwest town, a man contacted a hotel as follows, “I would very much like to bring my dog with me to your hotel and wonder if you would be willing to let him stay with me in my room at night?”

The reply came back quickly, “I have been operating this hotel for many years, and in all that time, I have never had a dog steal towels, bed clothes, silverware or pictures off the wall. I have never had to evict a dog in the middle of the night for being drunk and disorderly, and I have never had a dog leave without paying his bill. Your dog will be very welcome and, if he will vouch for you, you will be welcome also.”


Bobbie Lippman is a professional writer who lives in Seal Rock with Waldo, her robot. She is the author of “Good Grief: A Collection of Stories As One Woman Journeys From Heartbreak To Healing Through Honesty and Humor” (Dancing Moon Press). She can be contacted at [email protected]

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