by Barb, still enjoying glorious fall in New England
Today, Friend and perennial favorite of the Wickeds Alan Orloff joins us. Alan is here to celebrate his new book, Late Checkout, his second Mess Hopkins novel, which releases on October 22, four days from now!
Take it away, Alan!
Alan Doesn’t Travel Well
I’m not much of a traveler (maybe it’s my delicate hot-house flower make-up). I’m a man of routine, and I like things “just so.” If it was up to me, I’d only leave my home a couple times a week to go to the gym and get groceries. (I’ve thought about using a delivery service, but I like my bananas at a very specific ripeness—like I said, hot-house flower.)
But yet, for some reason, I do travel periodically. (Hint: ALAN WANTS TO REMAIN HAPPILY MARRIED.) Vacations, visiting family and friends, and writing conventions all send me out of my comfort zone (albeit with a bit of grumbling, at times).
I maintain, however, that some of my travel skittishness is well-earned. I’ve made four emergency landings (as a passenger, not a pilot), three of which included the clichéd “emergency vehicles racing along the tarmac next to the landing plane.” And two of those included exploding engines. The fourth near-disaster wasn’t really a “landing;” it was more of a last-second pull-up right before landing (undoubtedly to avoid crashing into something). Crime fiction reviewer Oline Cogdill was on that flight with me, heading to Left Coast Crime in San Diego (the convention that lasted six hours, thanks Covid!), and we “reminisce” about that experience every so often. (By “reminisce,” I mean our faces get pale and our voices get very shaky and we begin flop-sweating as soon as one of us begins, “Do you remember…”)
When I tell people this, they vow to never fly with me. But may I point out that I SURVIVED all those emergency landings? People should WANT to fly with me!
My traveling “adventures” are not limited to air travel. When my boys were younger, the family embarked on a seven-week cross-country trip, where we stayed mostly in motels. There was one time late at night where we couldn’t find a decent place to stay (this was before smartphones), so we kept driving until we reached a place called Albert Lea, MN. We had to beg the night clerk to give us his last room. “But the door doesn’t latch,” he said. “We’ll take it,” I responded. We spent the next fifteen minutes moving all the furniture we could up against the door. (You would, too, if you’d ever been to Albert Lea! No offense to any Albert Leans, of course!)
And then, later in the trip, we arrived in San Francisco (lovely town!) without a hotel reservation. We found a place a few blocks from Union Square. “Union Square,” I said. “I stayed there once. That’ll be great!”
Narrator: It was not great. (Those of you who are familiar with San Francisco know where this is heading.)
Our hotel was in an interesting part of town called the Tenderloin. Hey, how bad could it be?
Narrator: Very bad!
My instructions to my older son were this: when we leave the hotel, do not stray from my side. Walk as fast as you possibly can, and do not—I repeat—do not make eye contact with anyone. I didn’t need to give instructions to my wife and younger son because I forbade them from leaving the hotel. Actually, we had fun at that place. We spent hours guessing how many people had been murdered there.
So, naturally, given my love of traveling, I decided to write a series set in a seen-better-days motel!
Narrator: Yes, you did, idiot!
Question: Readers, what’s your worst hotel/motel nightmare experience?
About Alan Orloff
Alan Orloff has published eleven novels and fifty short stories. His work has won an Anthony, an Agatha, a Derringer, and two Thriller Awards. He lives and writes in South Florida, where the examples of hijinks are endless. www.alanorloff.com
About Late Checkout
Motel proprietor Mess Hopkins is more interested in helping others than turning a profit, so he opens the doors of the Fairfax Manor Inn to those seeking refuge from a bad situation. But when his cousin Finn shows up in trouble, his world is rocked, because Mess had thought Finn was dead, having run away six years earlier.
Unfortunately, Finn was in the wrong place at the wrong time and saw the wrong thing—an incident with deadly consequences.
It’s up to Mess, his girlfriend/newspaper reporter Lia Katsaros, and buddy Vell Jackson to solve the crime before some bad men achieve their goal—killing the only eyewitness.
Social media links:
Website: http://www.alanorloff.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alanorloff/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/alanorloff
Threads: https://www.threads.net/@alanorloff
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/alanorloff/
The Wickeds 
My goodness, Alan! Can’t wait to read the new book. I’ve had motels where I had to drag the mattress onto the floor because it was too saggy otherwise, and there was the one long ago that we suspected had bed bugs. Yikes!
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Whoa! Luckily, I can’t recall any (major) infestation issues during any of my motel stays. Something to look forward to!
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Alan has a way of making a terrible situation sound humorous. Looking forward to reading this.
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I prefer comedy over tragedy! (And, not to plug the book, but LATE CHECKOUT is available on NetGalley!)
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You are a hoot!! Thanks for the chuckle this morning! I’ve traveled quite a bit in my time, mostly for work, so thankfully the hotels were one of the chains and just fine. There was one in Dallas, though, that was sketchy (not one of the chains but close to our conference center). Lots of fighting on the balcony, police sirens, some coworkers found creepy crawlies in their rooms. I was glad to leave. And I also had a plane landing where emergency vehicles met us, that was a shocker upon exiting!
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Fighting! Police sirens! Creepy crawlies! Sounds like a typical night in the U of MD dorms, back in the day! As for the emergency landing, 1 star, do not recommend!
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Congratulations on the new release, Alan! Ah, the travel nightmare. There was the time the family was going to the Smokey Mountains for a vacation. About the time we crossed into Tennessee, the car started overheating. We managed to get as far as Knoxville before the engine let us know it had had enough. We eventually made it to our destination a day late, in a rental. Good times traveling, indeed!
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A day late and more than a few dollars short, no doubt! If you’re going to have to spend an extra day, the Smoky Mountains are a good place!
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Let me say – our last one, just earlier this week. I promised my parents that I would see to the family member’s graves after they were gone. I did, but didn’t realize at the time that we would end up moving to the opposite end of the state. However, fulfilling the obligation isn’t a hardship at all because one of the graves belongs to our teenage daughter. We’ve been driving down, attending to the graves in two cemeteries and then driving back in the same day. A long day, but doable. As we’re getting older the prospect of the 5 hour drive each way plus the work needing to be done wasn’t looking like a good idea. We had traveled over the summer and accumulated points. Investigating I found out we had enough points for a free room – problem solved. NOT! We have recently added two new furbabies meaning finding a motel became difficult since we had to find one that would allow pets. Found one that we knew where was (not a bad part of town at all) had recently been remodeled (great looking photos) and took pets for a fee (ok small amount of money was better than an extremely long day. Reservations made with request of handicap room with great difficulty walking needing first floor please and need exit. Got there and issued room on 4th floor “near” elevator. Well, room was 2/3’s way down hall. Opened door and it looked like someone had moved out 1/2 the furniture. Only chair in room was at the desk. Went back down with cart and pets to front desk where he told us all handicap rooms were like that. Reissued room on 2nd floor and promised right out of elevator. Yes it was right out elevator, but open door and same thing. By now hubby is turning red. Back down elevator with cart and pets (did I mention the great difficulty walking????) and then this nut says “all rooms are that way”. Told him there had to be 2 chairs in the room because I was not going to bed at 5 p.m. that I was handicapped not dead. He said he would get one up right away. So back on elevator to 2nd floor. Pet size was suppose to be 20 lbs or less, but motel was full of I swear 100 lb. dogs with loud barks. Then later we found out that the “crazy” woman talking to herself (no ear buds) in elevator was in the room across from us. For a large portion of the evening we endured slamming doors and her just short of yelling in hallway as she went up and down elevator. I don’t sleep well except home where I have a Tempur-Pedic adjustable mattress and a multiple adjustable recliner (which I often have to move to in order to not disturb hubby’s sleep on a bad night). So the nights rest was off to say the least. Where we thought we could have a leisurely morning and not check out at the break of down, ended up with a sign down at the desk saying “No breakfast as kitchen was closed for repairs” after asking the night before where breakfast would be served. We decided to load up and head out of dodge at 8:30. Although we did enjoy our stop over in Little Rock at the pet stores to buy some “necessary” things for the furbabies, I think we have definitely decided that to arrive home late and exhausted is much better than a stay over in town.
Can we say “Let’s stay home!” It’s where we are comfortable and content.
Can’t wait to check out “Late Checkout”, which sounds amazing. It’s bound to be a huge success because it’s releasing on my birthday. 🙂
2clowns at arkansas dot net
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That is SOME story, Kay! I think I like staying home a lot, too!
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I finally have a horrible motel story and its from earlier this month. I traveled with Annette Dashofy to Erie PA for a one-day conference. We stayed at a budget hotel from one of the national chains off Interstate 90. Very convenient, reasonably close to the hotel, and we were trying to save money.
Are you familiar with the phrase “you get what you pay for”?
The elevator was possessed. Sometimes it worked, sometimes the doors would simply close and open while the whole contraption squealed. There was a leak in the lobby ceiling. The paint in the room was chipped. The bathroom door had to be shoved open/closed because the floor buckled right in front of it – just enough to prevent the door working. The faucet dripped. The vanity was raw wood as though someone started a renovation project and quit halfway through. We did not get housekeeping the first night.
And there were roaches. I killed one the second night. Annette said she could have been convinced to go to another hotel. I said, “Well, if there had been more than one roach, but I was in my pj’s and it was 9 at night.” She looked at me and said, “That was the second roach.”
I told her next year I’d pay the difference between to get us to the Marriott, or at least a Hampton.
The best that could be said was there was plenty of hot water, the shower pressure was decent, and when I left my jacket behind, they retrieved it for me so a local friend could pick it up.
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I’ve seen my share of roaches, thank you. But I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in a motel that was possessed! (Maybe re-possessed…)
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I wish I’d known all this before getting on a flight with you and after being lulled (bored almost to death) by your cable guy story. You knew I was going to bring that up. As far as hotels the worst were in South Beach where we were traveling with a group of people and were up all night because of the crazy people on the same floor as us. And Taos, NM where my husband decided since he’d never heard of it, we didn’t need a reservation. We did.
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Well, in South Beach, I don’t think you’re supposed to use the rooms to sleep in. As for the cable guy story, I think it needs a re-telling. I’ve expanded it…
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A bazillion years ago I visited the D.C area with hubs, 4 year-old son, and best friends Jim and Diana.
After arriving late, we had to hunt for a place to stay. Many unsuccessful stops later, we found a place called Canary Cottages-a row of tiny bungalows. The price was right, plus we were desperate.
Fortunately, the sheets were clean, at least to the naked eye. The mattresses, however, were straight out of the turn of the century. No, not this century. The previous century. If you’ve seen the I Love Lucy episode with Fred and Ethel’s motel experience, you got the picture.
After bringing in the luggage, I decided to get my young son ready for bed. After a day of travel, and kid sweat, a bath was imperative. Unfortunately, the cottage only had a shower. I got him situated, turned on the water, shut the shower door and started digging through the luggage for his clean pj’s. Just when I’d located them, I heard a high-pitched shriek. Running into the bathroom, I found my son waist-deep in water! The shower was plugged up and he was two seconds from treading water.
Sorry for the long comment. 😏
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Pro tip: Avoid establishments with the words “Cottages” “Bungalows” “Rustic” And, evidently, “Canary.”
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If anyone is wondering, the replies from “Anonymous” above are from me!
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Yikes! I have nothing to compete with any of those.
Congrats on your next book.
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You’re lucky!
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Yikes! These stories make me glad that all my bad hotel experience were funny – not horrific! Well, there was that one hotel room that was overrun with scorpions. When I asked for a different room, they told me they’d take care of it. They did – they sprayed the room to within an inch of its life. I had just returned salty and sticky from a scuba dive and figured I’d take a shower, pack my gear and find another hotel. Who knew I was allergic to bug spray. Anaphylaxis ensued almost immediately, fortunately I am allergic to bee stings so I had (and used) an epi-pen. The doctors refused to release me from the hospital unless I promised not to go back to the hotel, and they convinced me to abandon anything in the hotel room. Fortunately, all my dive gear was in my car. Yep, almost forgot about that until now!
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Scorpions?? You win! Er, lose!
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From my vast experience, “Motel proprietor Mess Hopkins is more interested in helping others than turning a profit” is either a non sequitur or you’ve branched into the science fiction genre.
Seriously though, as someone who lived for many, many years in the Bay Area, I knew EXACTLY where this was headed as soon as you said “Union Square area.” I’m surprised we didn’t get a rundown of the flora and fauna you encountered there!
When I was younger and hardier, I used to travel several times a year to New York City. Since I was a theater fanatic, I explored and became quite expert on all the budget hotels in the Times Square area. (And I’m sure you can guess where this is going.) Back in those days, there were actually some quite decent reasonably priced hotels there. The Taft comes particularly to mind. Far from fancy with plumbing installed personally by John Quincy Adams, but clean and oft frequented by visiting symphony orchestras because of its proximity to Carnegie Hall.
But on one particular visit, I discovered I’d ventured a bit too deeply into the “budget” category. I booked a room for two nights at the “Times Square Motor Hotel” (an establishment which, thankfully – and deservedly – no longer exists). The room cost $25 a night and I stayed for two nights, paying in advance.
(Keep in mind this was in the late 1970s and while $25 was the least I’d ever paid for a room in that area, the Taft was only about $40 a night in that era, so I wasn’t as stupid as you might think in my expectations. OK, pretty stupid.)
Unsurprisingly, they didn’t offer a bellman to carry my luggage up to my room, so I toted it up myself in the elevator. That was where I got my first warning. There was this unidentified puddle of liquid in the elevator.
OK, I know that as soon as I saw that, I should have pressed the down button and run for the hills. But my plane had gotten in at 5 PM, it was already 7:30, and I had a ticket for a show I really wanted to see.
Once I opened the door, I discovered that the room itself was a dump. That wasn’t really a surprise. I didn’t really expect anything better at that price point, so it didn’t worry me. But then I got my second warning. The security chain for the door was affixed to the wall with scotch tape.
But I told myself things would be fine, dropped my bags and headed for the theater.
After the show and a late supper, I returned to the room a bit after midnight, opened the door and turned on the light and discovered that the floor was a solid mass of – you guessed it – cockroaches. Before they scurried off, there were so many you literally could not see the floor.
I spent the night with every light in the room on, fully dressed, cowering on top of the bed.
The next morning, I informed the front desk I was checking out early. Unsurprisingly, I couldn’t pry my second night’s fee from their greedy little fingers. So, with suitcase in hand I trod across Times Square to the Taft, praying they had a room available. (They did.)
It was a useful lesson and I never again stayed in a non-chain hotel (or motel) without asking to see the room first.
I’m looking forward to reading Late Checkout. I only hope that Mess’ housekeeping doesn’t live up to his name. I don’t find the odd murder here and there triggering, but a floor full of cockroaches might just be.
Best,
Lee Sauer
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Wow, that’s some story! Who would have thought, roaches in New York?
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Thanks, Barbara (and all the other Wickeds) for inviting me today! I had a lot of fun, and hearing about other people’s motel nightmares was very…interesting!
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We didn’t realize it was fair time in Chillicothe, OH, and innocently stopped to downs Tte night. Everything was full for 40 miles around. Finally a motel opened an old, obviously seldom used building next door, and we got a room. Tiles were pulling away from the wall around the tub, the carpet was bare, and the noisy A/C would stop about once an hour. To get it going again it was necessary to whack it hard on its side. Great memories of the Ohio Motel. And, actually I love to travel.
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