I returned to the hotel, planning to recharge my phone, shower, and head back out. The conference had provided dinner (pizza) at happy hour, but I hadn’t touched it. The lunch had been Texas BBQ, and I wasn’t hungry when the pizza had been served.
I felt largely thirsty and was surprised my used glass had been left out and not taken away by the maid. But whatever, conservation, right? I also notice one of the info cards I had flipped over, revealing a previous guest’s scribblings, had also not been replaced with a new one. Again, maybe there’s some effort towards conservation out here; I doubted that were true but let it slide.
I go to the ice bucket and realize it hadn’t been emptied. The California drought on my mind, I figure what the hell and decide to drink it anyway.
I pour some into my glass and chug. I pour another glass and then freeze before drinking. It’s that sick “I want to puke” type of freeze in horror, where you wish life had a pause, rewind, and reset button.
There is hair. In the water. Short hair. The type you’d expect to see in the sink after a man shaves.
I slowly pull the lid of the ice bucket and peer inside. I see a few hairs in the water and see more underneath the plastic bag.
As my phone continued to recharge, I spent the next 15 minutes furiously scribbling on the comment card about my stay remaining calm, collected, and polite. Deep down, my thoughts continuously repeated the following:
200$ a night for this dump?! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU.