The Clarendon

My mom is in town since yesterday for a business meeting. However, her visit also serves as an opportunity to visit me and take me out today to buy my first business suit.

So last night after her flight got in we went to Olive Garden and had dinner. Then we went out to the grocery store and stocked up my apartment with more groceries than I know what to do with. Since we were planning to get up today and go suit shopping in the morning before her business meeting, I decided to pack an overnight bag and spend the night at the hotel with mom. So I packed, we got into her rental car, programmed the GPS, and off we went.

"So where is this hotel?" I ask?
"It's called the Clarendon, and it's supposed to be in downtown Phoenix. My Executive Assistant said it's really nice." Mom replies.
"Ok, cool.'

I knew we had a problem the moment the GPS navigator directed me to get off the 51 at Indian School Road. This is not a good part of town, even in daytime. We're passing 99-cent store after liquor store after bar.

"Mom, this really isn't a good part of town."
"I know, I was thinking the same thing. This isn't looking good."
"*BEEP!* In three hundred yards, turn left onto third street."

We round another corner and lo and behold, the hotel comes into view. As if we could have possibly missed it.

A large and plain 3-story white brick building with few windows, the Clarendon sports blue-colored lighting that shoots up the sides of the building to give it the appearance of glowing. I think this is almost classy for about 3/10 of a second until I realize that the color of the light is changing. Blue, pink, green, red, orange, blue....

On one side of the hotel is a bar with completely glass walls so you can see straight inside. A limosine is parked out front and a blond girl wearing what I would imagine is an uncomfortably tight red dress (any tighter and she'd be suffocating) is stepping out of it. What I would imagine is supposed to be a bellboy is standing at the front. He looks more like a bouncer, wearing a white shirt with no sleeves.

I look over at Mom, whose jaw is now firmly on the floor of the passenger side.

"Mom.......this looks like a strip club!"
"I...am going to KILL my executive assistant."

We decide that - maybe, just maybe - it's actually nice on the inside, so we park in the cheap-apartment-covered-style-parking lot next to the hotel, grab just one bag each and walk to check in. The lobby is basic but trendy, and you can tell they've gone a long way trying to style it up - largely unsuccessfully. We are visably uncomfortable and the overly cheery girl at the front desk notices this as she ratttles on about how the hotel has the same beds as in five-star hotels and blah blah blah and you'll also notice a large canvass artwork - like this one - in your room by the window, and it actually slides over the window to provide a non-electirc blackout shade and blah blah blah enjoy your stay with us!

We step into the tiled - yes, TILED - elevator that is about the size of a small closet and take it to the 2nd floor. Upon stepping out, we discover that this particular hotel has an inward courtyard - an no interior hallways. It looks like a Motel 8. Mom grumbles something to herself and I notice that the room signs on the doors are actualy fake Arizona licesense plates with the room numbers on them. Classy. We find our room and open the door.

Well, the girl at the front desk wasn't lying. The beds look expensive.

However, nothing else about the room looks expensive.

The walls are stucco. Cold and bare. The carpet is dark and doesn't match the rest of the decor, which is red and black and trying to look classy but actually just looks tacky. There is no real countertop in the bathroom, just a pedestal sink. No refrigerator, although there is a mini-bar simply sitting on a cafeteria-style tray on the same table the TV is resting on. And as the icing on the cake, there is a large, seven-by five-foot mirror propped up against the wall. Facing one of the beds.

"We are NOT staying here."

20 seconds later we're rushing down the stairs and toward the exit to the parking lot. As we pass one room, the very unmistakable smell of pot wiffs out at us.

"Do you smell that?"
"Yeah. Hurry."

We practially RUN to the car, get in, and take off. We didn't even bother to check out. Mom is already on the phone with a Country Inn & Suites in Tempe near the University. 20 minutes later we're there and checked in.

Warm, country atmosphere with a huge wooden staircase in the lobby. A cheerful old man at the front desk. No full-length mirrors in the room propped up against the wall.

And it was $30 less than the Clarendon.