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Mine was a really dirty motel room, somewhere on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington.
For whatever reason, every other motel was booked-up, and we had to settle for a place that apparently housed loggers during the winter months. The room was dirty, the beds were sway-backed, the stall shower was so filthy that I opted to NOT bathe there, and even the refrigerator in the kitchenette had a build-up of grimy, black-ish ice in it. Thoroughly disgusting!
Next to the door was a sign stating, "No Caulk Boots in the room".
I had just moved from Nebraska to Oklahoma City. I was a college student and I had purchased a new Harley in Nebraska a day o so before the move to Oklahoma City. I licensed the Harley in Oklahoma but I kept my Nebraska drivers license. One week end I decided to ride up to Denver to visit a girl friend. At about midnight on a Friday I was riding to the GFs apartment when I got pulled over by a Denver police officer. He asked me for "license and registration". I gave him my Nebraska Driver's license but at that time OKLAHOMA did not require a vehicle operator to carry registration or proof of insurance. Immediately the officers thinks STOLEN motorcycle. He did allow me to ride my motorcycle to the nearest Police impound yard where my motorcycle was left while I was taken to the Precincts drunk tank where I was incarcerated until Monday.
Nasty place. Plugged up toilet, about fifteen criminals in one crowded holding tank and ME the only White college kid in the bunch. That was a long weekend and I did not get much sleep.
Camping in a "ratty" old abandoned cabin on the Lost Coast. I slept in a sleeping bag on an old sofa. That were mice and mice droppings everywhere....yuck! We should've slept outside in the tent, but the wind was howling off the sea.
I have so many "worst places" I have ever slept stories and they *all* involve boats. However, I did have a really crappy old mansion at one time, and anywhere in that place (pre-rehab) was terrible.
My second worst place was for one week on an air mattress on the wooden living room floor of my son and DIL's tiny, tiny one bedroom apartment in San Francisco. They did not have a couch, only a small loveseat, and I am tall so I couldn't sleep on that, nor could I sleep on their wooden dining room chairs (but I tried).
The room was so small that I had to sleep with my head under their dining room table. I couldn't afford to stay in a hotel but I really wanted to see my one year old grandson. BTW, I have severe rheumatoid arthritis and I was in excruciating pain and could barely move in the morning. But, I told them that I "slept fine" because I had no other place to stay.
To top off my experience. Their toilet was broken and could not be replaced for several days, so every time that I had to go to the bathroom I had to put on a sweater & shoes, walk all the way to the other end of the hallway, take the elevator down several floors, walk about a block to the apartment complex pool, unlock the security door and use the freezing cold bathroom in the pool house. Then I had to walk a block to the correct building, open the stubborn security lock to the building, go up in the elevator, walk all the way down to the end of the hallway and try to get back to sleep. If you are aware of the bladder needs of older women you would realize that I had to do this at least twice, if not three times, during the night.
And this experience was much, much better than the place that I slept for the worst week. I'll post that later.
A puddle in the grass alongside the sidewalk outside of my house.
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