August 18, 2011

• Going to Anchorage? Shun the Hampton Inn

  Our three-day, two-night trip to Anchorage for my surgery was rough.  We knew it would be.  What we did not know was that the manager of the hotel we stayed in was–in my wife’s words–”a red-headed pit bull.”  We did not know  how hellish the hotel stay would be.

  See, the hotel brags a lot about how they want their customers to be happy.  They put it in writing–if you are not satisfied, we don’t want you to pay.  This is a huge lie.  An egregious lie. An actionable lie, I think.

  We had a list of abut a dozen things we really hated about the hotel.  They ranged from the near-fatal–no vent in the bathroom + glazed tile flooring = a near-fatal bathroom fall on the slippy floor–to the merely really annoying, like the treatment my wife had to endure from the staff, or the HVAC system that would wake the dead, so we stifled in an airless room. (Traffic noise and air pollution kept us from keeping the window open all the way.) Listing everything would be tedious and depressing.

  The manager ignored all my complaints and  bored in on my wife, who is disabled due to several chronic ailments.  The women was so hostile and agressive and insulting, Kathy had to retreat to the room to lie down.  After I literally made a scene in the lobby, the manager–Tami Long–very grudgingly, reluctantly and resentfully instructed the arrogant but clueless desk clerk to comp us for ONE NIGHT.

  If they had any honesty, their slogan would be “We hope you are satisfied, but if you are not, we might refund some of your money of you raise a great enough stink.”

  Oh, and the manager told us not to come back.  I think we will be following that advice.

  Remember that name–The Hampton Inn.  Go there and be sorry.  Don’t blame me.  You were warned.

   

   

   

   

   

   

  • 3:32 pm
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