POSTING #88

A Long Night in a Fergus Motel

Thanks to the internet, it is easy today for people to find reviews of hotels and motels. Websites like TripAdvisor usually offer helpful advice: ("Good hotel but ask for a room at the front because the garbage trucks arrive at the back at 4 am.").

In the 1980s, by contrast, we only had skimpy information about places to stay when Pat and I were planning a trip to visit my mother in Arthur. After asking friends for recommendations---no one had any suggestions---I decided to use the AAA guide and found a motel in Fergus (12 miles south of Arthur) that sounded all right.

It was not posh but I asked myself, 'it's only one night, what can go wrong'.

As it turned out, a lot could go wrong---so very wrong!

We checked in around 8 PM after driving from Ottawa.

The room, which was on the second floor overlooking the street, was a basic motel room---a double bed with a large, slightly askew print of a flamenco dancer above the bed-head, a bathroom (oddly, the size of a ballroom ,with a shower no tub) and a large colour television.

OK for one night.

Then we discovered that there were no   towels in the bathroom. I called the desk and 20 minutes later the clerk showed up with some thread-bare towels.

We tried to watch the television news but all we got was snow and static. The clerk came up---again after a delay---and discovered that someone had disconnected the cable.

We went to bed and slept soundly---until 11.30 when we were awakened by a fight in the street below our window. The beer parlours were emptying and some fellows were shouting, swearing and throwing punches at each other. This in Fergus!

After half an hour, the police came and sorted things out.

We had trouble getting back to sleep after all the excitement but finally drifted back into the land of nod.

Then at 1 AM we woke up again as a couple arrived in the room next to ours, talking loudly, laughing and banging into things.

Their bathroom was right behind our bed-head and we could hear everything---e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g!

The motel had made no attempt to provide any acoustic insulation. The epitome of 'paper thin walls'!

Things settled down for a bit and then the man rushed into the bathroom and began throwing up in the toilet.  (I apologize for using 'throwing up' instead of something more genteel like 'retching', or 'vomiting'. Believe me, my description is more apt.)

I could try to describe the sounds but you don't need that. I am sure you can imagine them.

Then we heard a sultry voice from the bedroom, "Why don't you come back to bed?"

"I will when I can get my head out of the toilet."

"Hurry, I've got a surprise for you."

"What kind of surprise?"

"Guess."

Showing that he was a fan of the Twenty Questions TV show of the time, he replied with a question that panelists on the show often used, "Is it bigger than a bread box?"

"You just come and I'll show you."

The shouted discussion went on and on. Finally, we turned on the TV to drown out the embarrassing conversation.

We eventually got back to sleep.

Feeling groggy after a terrible night, we went down to the dining room for breakfast.

I ordered the standard breakfast with two poached eggs on toast. The orange juice was watery with a Kool-Aid flavour, and the coffee was cool and weak.

Feeling glum about things, I was cheered up by the breakfast plate when it arrived. The bacon was crisp, and the poached eggs were large with high yokes.

This is more like it, I thought.

I started to cut into one of the eggs.

And it exploded.

In a flash, I had yoke on my tie and suit coat lapel, and a large, hot blob of egg just under my right eye.

I guess I let out a shout and everyone in the room turned to watch us.

A waitress rushed over.

When I told her that an egg had blown up, she shook her head. She said there was a new helper in the kitchen who didn't know that before cooking poached eggs in a microwave you had to puncture them with a pin. Otherwise, steam would build up in the egg and ...

I had never heard of poaching eggs in a microwave, or of the possible lethal consequences.

At checkout, I asked if I could see the manager, intending to give him some constructive feedback about our stay.

He was in his early 60s, tall, with carefully parted gray hair, dressed in a blue blazer and gray flannels. The blazer had a crest from some military unit---he had the air and bearing of a retired officer. Perhaps a major.

I explained that we hadn't had a very good stay and started to list the problems. He had an answer for everything.

No towels----"But you got some."

The TV didn't work---"But our man hooked it up."

There was a fight in the street---"But you can't expect us to be responsible for fights in the street."

There were noisy guests---"But we can't control the behaviour of guests."

I could see that I wasn't getting anywhere. He didn't show any real interest or concern. A note to the AAA was starting to form in my head.

But I carried on.

"And then at breakfast..." I started but he interrupted with a condescending air.

"And what happened at breakfast?"

"An egg blew up in my face", I said, pointing to the red welt under my eye.

What a change in him! It was as though a pin had punctured his pomposity.

We looked at each other for a time.

Then, he said that the motel would offer us a reduced rate for our next stay.

Trying my best to be civil, I told him there was no way we would ever come back.

He nodded, and offered a reduction for our stay, which I accepted.

Next to us in the parking lot, was a car with 'Just Married' messages soaped on all the windows.

Aha, we thought.

Our neighbours from next door. The wedding dinner had gone on too late, he had drunk too much. It all added up.

Strapped to the top of the car was a long, green canoe.

They were going on a camping honeymoon!

As we drove off, we hoped that there weren't any portages until the hangovers had worn off.

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Note: I can't find the motel on the internet and assume---if there is any justice---that it went broke. The next visit we stayed at a Fergus B&B---the excellent Breadalbane.

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See you on October 3rd for Posting #89 with more stories from our family’s universe! If you have comments or suggestions, please leave a comment at the bottom of this posting,  or email me at johnpathunter@gmail.com.