I had been offered a job in NYC, and had moved there with little to no planning. The consequence of that was I had to live in a motel until I found an apartment.
My company had agreed to pay my moving expenses up until I had arrived in the area. Once I got there, I knew my living expenses were my bill, and that I had to be somewhat cheap. My first paycheck was a long time away.
I rolled into the area, just before dark. I saw a sign for a very small hotel with a blue sign. This was my last night on some one else's bill.
The bulletin board read "Trucker's welcome. Affordable rates."
Sounded good, and I figured if it was good enough for a trucker it was good enough for me.
I parked went inside, and told the Indian gentlemen behind the counter that I wanted a room. He looked me up and down and then said in very broken English
"You Want Yes"
I said yes. I ask him if he took travelers checks. He got this weird look on his face, and went into the back room.
Out of nowhere. A very young twenty something girl walks into the office. I hadn't heard a car pull up.
The next thing I know this girl is bad mouthing the owner something fierce, like she had been working with him for months.
I was polite and chatted with her and yes flirted a bit. She then left suddenly, and I was a bit confused.
The owner reappeared, and said.
"You Want Yes"
I said yes. I wanted a room for the night. The reality of the situation had not yet dawned on me, as to what was happening. It didn't dawn, until I told the owner that I needed a receipt and he got this weird weird weird look on his face. It was then that I saw the sign for hourly rates. They seemed a bit high. I still needed a room, and he had already took my traveler's checks, so I said
"I want a room to sleep in for the night, and I will need a receipt."
He gave me my key and said something about special room service in the morning.
"You Want Yes"
I wanted yes, but no. I was sure that the special room service had its own price. One that I wasn't prepared to pay, and was sure that the expense wasn't appropriate to list on my travel voucher.
I slept that night with a chair under the door knob and a glass of water on the night stand. It wasn't for drinking. You should have seen some of the characters in the rooms.
At first light, I left. It was a mighty short night.
The next hotel I stayed in had been something else before. It was owned by another Indian gentlemen. He had knocked out and changed the interior of a big warehouse into a series of little rooms. It seemed clean, but the television was older than the invention of radio and the mattress was incredibly lumpy.
I looked underneath the mattress and saw a half empty bottle of vodka and an alcoholic anonymous book. There was something amusing about that.
Anyway, I turned on the tv (no remote) and was greeted by the sharp pungent smell of ozone. I needed a shower and a good night's sleep.I figured the shower would wait until morning. Nothing was on tv anyway.
The next morning I got up, turned on the tv, and took a shower. As I came out of the so called shower (one line that had been tapped twenty time probably from the lack of pressure). I smelled smoke and heard snap, crackle, pop. It wasn't breakfast. Flames were coming from the top of the tv.
I yanked the plug from the wall, got dressed, and went to tell the owner of the hotel. The owner's wife was there. She was also Indian, and her english was worse than her husbands. I told her that the television in my room had decided to become a furnace. She didn't get it. She said her son would fix.
I came back later that day and she came out to meet me. She said... All fixed. No problem. happen all time. just dont run tv and shower.
