lubricious tableaus.

TripAdvisor I missed you so. I can't NOT look at the reviews for the worst hotels in small USA tourist towns. The owners of these places must have just gone glazed-eye with instant black despondency when they first saw TripAdvisor and realized omg people will now know not to stay here before they actually stay here.

Here are some excerpted reviews of the Indian Hills Inn in Taos, NM. Please take a moment to look at the Traveler Photos for this establishment to get a feel for the accuracy of the reporting, and then if you have extra time that needs vaporizing, stop to admire the determination of the poor manager who is somehow still finding the will to live after calmly, rationally responding to complaint after complaint about how absolutely dire things are there.

"we lasted an hour. Toilet backed up, tv didnt work, wi fi virtually non existant."

"within the first 12 hours our water was shut off due to a pump or something breaking. Gentleman at the front desk could not answer when I would have hot water....Then a terrible odor started coming in (window & door closed) and was told a sewer line broke. Room was shabby and barely clean, stains on the walls and i believe blood stains on the ceiling."

"I can put up with carpets from the Nixon administration, Cathode ray tube TVs. I did expect wifi to work, even if it's slow. It just cuts in and out and is useless. But the main issue this time is the questionable clientele. It used to be full of visitors going to ski slopes. Now it looks like people are living there. I can't put up with people yelling and slamming doors at midnight, and cops showing up looking for suspects."

"I have never been in a filthier, scarier hotel. Full disclosure, this place was so gross, we left assuming that we would still have to pay the full price. The lobby was in dire need of repair, smelled like smoke from the staff. When we were checking in, the (really) nice girl up front explained their washing machine broke and housekeeping was at the laundry mat next door with the linens. Everything screamed run at this point but we wanted to give this place the benefit of the doubt. As we walked up to our room, it appeared that the ceilings on both balconies were falling apart, didn't even look structurally sound. There were also several seedy characters that appeared to be living at the hotel. The carpet was literally falling apart from the door. Once inside, we could see that the door had a long crack through which daylight could be seen. Duct tape was used to fix cables to the carpet. Black mold decorated the bathroom and it appeared as if cat liter had been used at one point in the bathroom for god knows what. Due to physical and health safety concerns, we decided to check out 5 minutes after checking in. On a positive note, management did agree to work with the booking agent to give us a refund, which we were not expecting."

"My husband and I stayed here one night and will never stay here again! I have never posted a bad review before but feel I should say something. There are people renting weekly/monthly here and there was a lot of trash around in the parking area and even on the stairway leading up to our room. There was a party going on directly below us and they kept us awake until 4am. At one point we even went out to sleep in our vehicle."

Respect, Indian Hills Inn, for keeping it real. And then in addition to fact-based reporting, some people are just going for it, writing wise. From a review of the Adobe Wall Motel in Taos:

"Several other reviewers have commented on the curtness of the Adobe Wall Inn's proprietor, Donna. I condemn this: what sort of bitter nebbish would let something so inconsequential ruin her trip when there's a fireplace waiting in her room, and Duraflames to burn in it? What slumpshoulder lump of oatmeal could let Donna get her down when Taos is warm and sunny outside, and the Plaza, heaving with art to ridicule and people to gawk and lumpen stuffed bears to pretend are alive and ravenous for chocolate, just a five-minute walk away? What unfortunate gunch would even remember who Donna WAS when she's in her room at the Adobe Wall, sprawled on the bed, transfixed by the lubricious tableau of her man in the Duraflame glow, wearing them jeans, his broad wrists and hands and teeth and oh god lips all over a Salted Nut Roll, beneath the wonky silhouette of Taos Pueblo painted on the wall in a lurid orange? Certainly not me!"

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