“Don't. Just Don't”
I wish I could answer this question but there was nothing to like; when I first arrived the front‑desk clerk gave me an upstairs room even though I’d asked for a downstairs one because of a disability—this was corrected and a new room was assigned, but the door opened to a cigarette‑smelled, musty room with someone still sleeping in the bed; I reported it, and the clerk said “Oh yeah, I forgot they extended their stay.” A second room was given, yet it was moldy with ceiling and bathroom mold, splattered walls, and dirty linens; the third room had never been cleaned in ages. No apology or effort to improve was offered. I requested a clean fitted sheet, but was given a flat one, with the excuse “What’s the difference?” I slept itching all night, constantly checking for bugs.
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