Needed: One Travel Agent

Over the past several years, I've built up a solid reputation as a patron of ghetto gas stations. The worst part is that these adventures are most likely to occur when I'm traveling solo. Once, while visiting my parents, I stopped to buy gas while out on an errand. Two gas stations were available on opposite sides of the road. Naturally, I ended up at the one with bars in all the windows instead of the perfectly nice one across the way. When traveling to Texas with my mom, she learned that I was not exaggerating about this problem. Practically every place we stopped when I was driving made her nervous and some of them she flat refused, insisting that we look for another exit. Driving home after Christmas vacation, I'm pretty sure I stopped at the only gas station in Sanford with a man imbibing from a bottle hidden in a paper bag and seranading the customers. I passed about half a dozen gas stations in the town before I got to this one. As I left the parking lot, I called my mom and boasted that my reputation was still intact. Then, the last time I picked a hotel (online naturally) it ended up being rather ghetto as well. Apparently, my skill is related to any stop made while on a trip. Wonderful.

All this to say that when I planned my trip to Baltimore I was a bit concerned. However, I was actually staying in a suburb of the city and the testing center was there, too. Didn't seem like it could be too dangerous. However, knowing my tendencies, I brought up my safety as a prayer request at singles' group. That was a bit of a mistake - my half-joking attitude did not at all amuse the police officer among us. Oh well. Honestly, I didn't think I had much to worry about, especially when I noticed, as I pulled off the interstate, the Lowe's and large shopping center across from the hotel.

But, it was not to be. (Maybe I should have realized this when I passed the woman walking down the road, dragging a suitcase on wheels.) Standing in the lobby while checking in, I became aware of a somewhat disreputable-looking man sitting nearby and protesting into the phone, "But they won't let me stay here without a picture ID. I already walked over here from the other place. Since I don't have ID I can't check in." Lovely. My parents have been in millions of hotel lobbies over the years and not once encountered a remotely similar situation. I got my key and escaped up the stairs (which smelled faintly of nursing home disinfectant) to my room. For your information, it's a bad omen for the whole hotel room when you flip the light switch by the door and it results in a unpleasant buzzing noise and flickering light. Items to be noted (or what I would have said if I'd filled out a comment card) -

• Floors benefit greatly from vacuuming.
• When painting the walls, please tape the metal door frames, baseboards, etc.
• Light switch plates should be cleaned; this will prevent stickiness.
• When you pull something out of the wall, it is customary to fill in the resulting holes.
• I prefer a bathroom devoid of other people's hair.
• The refrigerator, microwave, hair dryer, iron, and ironing board (even the cable) could be given up in exchange for cleanliness.
• A heater requiring constant monitoring to insure it doesn't burst into flames should visit the heater hospital.
• No scary men were hiding under the beds.
• Additionally, no scary bugs were hiding in the beds. (I know, I checked, I couldn't have slept otherwise.)
• The TV worked and provided sufficent relaxing entertainment in the form of a couple of episodes of "What Not to Wear."
• The end of the roll of toilet paper was beautifully, impeccably folded.

When I went out later for food, I called my mom to inform her that my reputation was intact. (Perhaps I should have saved this for after I survived the experience. She was reassured, though, by the pepper spray my roommate gave me for Christmas.) I have decided, however, that rather than trusting to my own inability to pick appropriate places, I should employ a personal travel agent. Now I understand all of my mom's hotel paranoias that frustrated me when I was a child. Anyone want to volunteer to choose my hotel the next time I travel?