Mrs. Eduardo and I are currently traveling with my folks on our first trip to New England. I’ve been through these parts on business before, but this is my first vacation here. It’s pretty neat so far, even though we just arrived a few hours ago. I’m posting this from the place we’re staying tonight, a motel in Sanford, Maine. We just had a pretty wack experience, one I’m compelled to share.

First, though, a little introduction. My dad, being very familiar with this area, took care of almost all the travel and lodging plans for this trip. We started off in New Hampshire and will be making our way up into northern Maine over the next week and a half, so our first night is sort of a stopping point before the main part of the trip. Since the place we’re staying later in the week is pretty cool, he decided to find an “cheap but clean” place for us all to stay on our first night here. As for myself, I’ve learned the hard way why you should avoid such places, but hey – my dad’s calling the shots this time. I trust him, and one night in a budget motel won’t hurt. I think.

After a very long plane ride and some misinterpretation of the directions Google Maps gave us, we arrived at the Sanford Inn around 10:30 PM (Eastern Time). My dad had made reservations weeks beforehand, and even notified the management that we might be arriving a little later in the evening.
We were relieved to see the office still open when we pulled up. He and I went in to get everything squared way, but found nobody was at the front desk. We rang the bell, and waited. A few seconds later the owner appeared, a visibly angry little East Indian guy. In broken English, he loudly scolded us for being late – and complained that my dad hadn’t turned his cell phone on:

You are not using the mobile phone, huh? I left you, uhh, you know… ehh… messages. We close down the place, it’s late you know!”

The fact that it was only 10:30, and that there was a giant, red illuminated ‘OPEN’ sign right next to the door made the guy’s attitude all the more absurd. My dad, who has an incredible tolerance for difficult people, calmly apologized and politely reminded him that we’d told him beforehand that we might be a little late.

“I’m sorry; I actually told you that we might be arriving a bit late this evening.”

“Ehh… You come late, you can lose money, you know… You sleep in the car!

I couldn’t believe that the owner of the place was treating us like this. We were very close to giving him the finger and finding another place to stay, but also knew that every other place within 20 miles was booked up for a big NASCAR event in the area. If we walked out, we probably would indeed have to sleep in the car as the guy had suggested.I wasn’t sure who to be more angry at – this guy, or NASCAR. My dad, slow to anger, was now ticked.

“Hey look, guy – we did the best we could. We told you we might be late.”

“I try, I try, you know… People come in late, you don’t call. Okay, please fill out dees form.”

Scowling, my dad filled out the form and we handed the guy our credit cards. I just stood there, upset that we were giving money to someone who desperately needed a punch in the mouth. After the guy grumbled a bit more, he calmed down and eventually became somewhat closer to ‘courteous’. We checked in, and all went to our rooms.

For what it’s worth, they’re not bad. We could have done a lot worse, so score one for my dad. As for Bobby Punjabi and his ill-tempered rant, I’m going to drop a review of this place on TripAdvisor as soon as I have time.