Report from the Wastelands

So I’m in Houston for a series of school visits. But don’t think the title of my piece has anything to do with that: I am having an awesome time—everyone has been gracious and these kids are whipsmart.
I’m staying at a business class hotel. My room is spacious and there’s even a refrigerator I can put things into! All that is good.
But not perfect. They have those Styrofoam cups that I despise, and there’s powdered creamer in the little packets that come with the coffee maker. I am resourceful, though. I bring up some real cream from breakfast and put it in the refrigerator. As for the Styrofoam, I can deal. All part of life on the road.
But I have no wastebaskets. None at all. I search the room twice. You don’t realize how often you use a wastebasket until you don’t have one. Well, I think, surely when Housekeeping makes up the room, they will notice there are no wastebaskets to empty, and they will remedy it. Meanwhile, I strew trash around, which is not the way I was raised.
When I return from the school visit, Housekeeping has been there, they have taken the trash, but there are still no wastebaskets.
Maybe, I think, in their efforts to go green, the hotel has resorted to the “pack in, pack out” policy. Whatever trash you generate, you have to take with you.
I call down to the desk.
“Are you sure?” the desk clerk says.
“Well, yes,” I say. “I’ve looked three times.”
“We have a couple down here,” she says.
“Great,” I say. “I’ll come get them.”
But when I get there, the clerk looks apologetic. “Sorry,” she said. “I thought there were some, wastebaskets here but Housekeeping must have taken them.”
I envision that somewhere there is a hoard of wastebaskets guarded by the Dragon of Housekeeping.
“I’ll tell them to bring you some, though,” the clerk offers.
Some time later, a Housekeeper comes to the door clutching two wastebaskets. “Are you sure? No wastebasket?” She stalks around the room, checking under the desk and in the bathroom, and finally leaves two wastebaskets in my custody. I try to use them a lot after that.
The day isn’t over yet. I go out to dinner with some librarians—we have a great time. When I return, I get on the elevator. I look down and see that someone has apparently defecated on the floor.
I sniff, and there is no apparently about it.
I call down to the desk.
“Um, you may want to alert Housekeeping that there are feces on the floor of the elevator.”
“What?” the clerk says.
“There’s poop in the elevator. On the floor,” I say.
“Are you sure?” the desk clerk says.
“Yes,” I say. “I’m sure.”
“Oh!” the clerk says. “Sorry. I’ll take care of it right away.”
Since then, I’ve huddled up here in my room, afraid to chance the elevator again. And that’s the way it is, out here in the wastelands.

A Room at the Inn

What’s important to you when you check into a hotel? I realize that hotels have it tough, because everyone has different expectations of what good service is. One person has no interest in Internet access, while the next demands it. One guest requires an in-room media center, while someone else is more interested in security measures.

So I’m in Los Angeles for the SCBWI Annual Conference at the Hyatt Regency Century City. Now, this is not a flophouse by any means. It’s a beautiful hotel, recently renovated. The “rack rate” is $399 a night. (Full disclosure: I am not paying that much since I’m here with a conference.)

My question is, what should you get for your $399 a night? Here is my personal list of loves and hates in hotels:

Loves
I love these super beds hotels have these days. Six pillows may be a bit much, but I like being adrift on a great barge of a bed. It feels like a special privilege to sleep in one of these.

A beautiful view. It may seem silly to pay more for something you can’t take home except in your memory, but I love to look out at beauty.
Those cool showers with the curved shower curtain rods. You don’t end up with the shower curtain plastered to your bare body or water all over the floor.

Free Internet access in your room. I think that should be a given these days. Ironically, it tends to be provided in business hotels for $125 a night. For $399, you pay extra to get online.
A good working desk and chair with adjustable height. Right now I feel like my keyboard is under my chin.
Coffee maker in my room with good coffee: I like to have coffee before I meet the public. Including Room Service
Health clubs: these should be gratis. I’m not talking about a spa, but basic workout equipment. It’s hard enough to exercise on the road without feeling like you’re being nickeled and dimed to death

Hates
Those in-room junk food stores posing as refrigerators. Here at the Hyatt, half the space on the bureau is taken up by a snack store with chips, cookies, raisins, and nuts. The mini refrigerator is packed with liquor, pop, candy bars, cookies, candy, and beer. There is no room for personal items I might want to refrigerate, for example, healthy items like milk or fruit or leftovers from dinner. Once again, there is a warning sign on it telling me that electronic sensors will bill my room if I disturb any of the items and warning me not to try and put my personal items in there. This is service? Why couldn’t there be a mini bar with items for sale for the convenience of guests and a couple of shelves for your own foods? That would be hospitality.

Non-dairy powdered creamer in those little packets with the coffee maker. Yick! Use real cream. It keeps for a long time in those little cups.
Cardboard cups. For $399 a night, you should get real glass. (BTW. the Hyatt offers to provide real glasses on request. It took two tries to get some.)

No Big Deal
Towels: I don’t care if they change the towels and sheets every day. I don’t do it at home, so why do I need it here?
Hair dryers: I don’t care if they provide hair dryers. You can’t count on their being there, so I always bring my own anyway. So don’t bother.
Iron and ironing board. Like I’m going to do ironing here.

What about you? What are your pet peeves and delights when you stay in a hotel?