Here are some of our cry-baby complaints (please note we realize that there are far worse conditions, like a war-torn Iraq or West Virginia, but we like to complain):
There was no wi-fi in our room so we were forced to share a single land-line. Do you know what it's like to have two Internet-addicted women sharing one Internet connection? Bastards.
It appeared they’re in the process of remodel so everywhere we went there was a stink of varnish and paint. A complimentary gas mask should come in every room.
Half of the parking garage was filled with hotel furniture and I’m pretty sure the lamps in our room came from that outdoor furniture staging ground since there were holes in the shades and mold in between the holes.
There was no hot water, only lukewarm to cold. Whoever heard of a hotel with limited hot water supply?! I guess they were trying to save money so they could buy more cheap paint and varnish.
Our room was so small...How small was it? Our room was so small that even though we were in separate beds it felt like we were spooning all night. And the beds left our bodies crippled and crampin. I think my pillows were actually living beings because they kept pushing me down the bed, causing my feet to hang off the edge. Evil, demon pillows!
One plus about the tiny bathroom: you could brush your teeth, poop, and shower all at the same time.
Our window unit would not cool down to the sixty degrees we required for sleeping conditions so we both sweat like Meatloaf during an encore performance. Not pretty.
Did I mention no wi-fi in the room? In fact, there was only one spot in the whole hotel where we could get wi-fi and it smelt like burn turd. And half the electrical plugs didn't work.
Oh, and a roach kept us company during the seminar. We named him Chico.
And last, but certainly not least, the only soft drinks they had to offer were Pepsi, Mountain Dew, and Sierra Mist. Here's a little lesson on soft drinks (at least in the South): No one orders Pepsi unless there is a gun in their mouth or there isn’t any Coke. Only the Appalachians drink Mountain Dew and no one drinks Sierra Mist. I thought Sierra Mist had gone the way of Mr. Pibb and if it hasn't it sure as shite should.
I hate you Sheraton Brookhollow. Suck it.
I think this was the hot water heater for the whole hotel:
A picture of our room:
And the war-torn exterior: