this is not a hotel. It is a poorly appointed B&B.
If, like me, you’re the sort of weirdo who travels with a suitcase, you’re going to love being lodged on the sixth floor of a building with no elevator. If, also like me, you walk with a cane, those 70 stairs up to your room should provide ample opportunity to think about your many bad choices. I trust reserving this place will be near the top of your list.
If you want a cup of water, there is a broken dispenser on the sixth floor. There is (was?) a working one on the fifth floor.
At 1:30 am, a guest came onto our floor and began screaming, in a never-ending chorus, “mother f’er,” “what the f did you say to me?” and “what the f is this?” He then smashed the metal bins and made various other fun sounds (everything is music!”)
I immediately called down to the front desk— just kidding! There is no front desk, or any employees of any kind. Or a phone! There was a number to text, which I did. At 2am. no response.
The establishment has many thoughtful details. It provides body wash and shampoo and conditioner. Unfortunately, it has mounted these in such a way as to make their dispensers inoperable. Cost effective!
Also cost effective is their outsourcing of other tasks to their guests. Run out of toilet paper? waddle down the hallway and grab a roll, assuming that drunk guy didn’t already smash it. Blow a fuse? There’s a handy how-to sign affixed to the wall! You know where I do household errands? In my house.