Recently, I attended a conference for children’s book writers. A first for me. I don’t normally choose to pay money when I know some level of networking will be involved. This is not my strength or comfort zone AT ALL. I shrivel up like one of polyps in Ursula’s merfolk garden when required to socially interact with strangers. But I also love to learn and it’s a goal of mine to become a true published writer. So, I signed myself up and vowed to make the days count.
It was a great decision. I’m even inspired to write another story about my childhood for kids to help them through similar struggles. I think, once done, it will be something special.
This trip, while a learning experience, was also supposed to double as a mini vacation for my family. Going alone was an option, but that felt like leaving too much of me behind. So, we all drove 4 hours to Fort Lauderdale for what I had envisioned being a fun-filled weekend that included time at the beach, exploring the area a tiny bit, and some pool time for the fam while I got my learning on.
While Vince and the kids did enjoy some pool time and we managed to explore the area a teensy bit one night, my plans were a little thwarted by our hotel accommodations. That’s seems strange. A hotel can change your entire plans?
Yes. Yes, it can. It can when you are staying at Hotel Catfish (as my 11 yr old daughter Scarlett now calls it.)
Welcome to the Hotel Catfish – sung in tune with Hotel California but you gotta say “Hotel Cat-a-fish” to get the melody and lyrics the same.
Picture this.
You walk into a gorgeous lobby. There’s a rock waterfall in the center with hotel rooms soaring up the atrium on either side. You are impressed by the architecture and vibe. You take a picture in front of the selfie spot. The pool outside has a rock feature, koi pond, and lush tropical trees.
It’s ah-mazing.
You smile in anticipation as you ride up the elevator to your room. Rolling your suitcases over to your room, you open the door. The smile remains frozen on your face as you are smacked in the nose with curious smell. Is that eggs? Your eyes are assaulted with the color of the wall. You didn’t know Sherwin Williams had a shade akin to diarrhea. There’s carpet…carpet everywhere. Weird spots on the carpet that have clearly been baked in for some time. Kool-Aid? Blood? Then there’s spots on the carpet that should have been picked up with a vacuum…but weren’t. Like a former resident bug that has since died and crumbs from a muffin enjoyed by a former guest (maybe the bug?).
Sink handles are sticky.
Rips in the couch.
Popcorn ceilings some affectionately call asbestos.
A view out your balcony of unused paint cans resting on the ground below, rusted from the salty humid air of the Florida east coast.
What. The. Hell.
You got me
We were catfished by this hotel. Blinded by all the beauty of the lobby, grounds, and pool. Seduced by the best complimentary breakfast I’ve ever seen. We peeled back the vinyl curtains (whatever ones were left) and realized the beauty and cleanliness of this place dead stopped at the hotel door.
Despite the nastiness, we stayed 2 out of the 3 nights we planned. The customer service and management were great. Again, stark contrast to the room quality. It’s like everyone there had beer goggles on, and they think they are working at The Plaza. It’s bizarre. They provided exceptional service and comped us a bit for the discomfort. But they can’t do anything about the rooms, I guess? Rooms that have not been updated since the year I was born. Before the internet existed and you didn’t need area codes to make a phone call...
The Silver Lining
I knew my girls were spoiled in their travel experience thus far. Gianna not as much as the other two because she was born while Vince and I were still young and learning that an $89 hotel room is not a good idea. But for the most part, they have been coddled in their away-from-home stays. We are not financially strapped, and we no longer intentionally stay in questionable places because the price is cheaper. I usually research hotels heavily before booking and try to find the best choice that isn’t a car payment a night to stay at.
But kids don’t realize these things. They don’t realize how spoiled they are. Until you book a room at Hotel Catfish. This room has burned into their brains how fortunate they really have been up until now. Because this room, while utterly disgusting and outdated, is not the worst hotel room I’ve ever seen in my 40 years. But it’s probably the worst one for them.
They shall never complain again. My prissy ass children staying at Disney Deluxe Resorts and being appalled that their luxury pull-out queen sofa bed wasn’t that comfortable. Or when their Airbnb in Atlanta was gorgeous, but they were uncomfortable that the hallway outside smelled of marijuana. Now they know. They have seen a new side of what bad really is…and they are grateful for what they typically get.
Thank you Hotel Catfish. We shall never see you again, but you have left a mark on my family that shall never go away. You were worth every over-priced penny….and bug on the floor.