Howard Johnson Express Inn San Antonio

★☆☆☆☆
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  • 13279 Hwy 10 W

    San Antonio, TX 78249

    Map & Directions
  • 866-215-6641

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Majid Akbani is Why I Will Never Stay at a Howard Johnson Express Inn Again. Read my full review here: neverstayathojosa[dot]ueuo[dot]com

0
★☆☆☆☆

Majid Akbani is Why I Will Never Stay at a Howard Johnson Express Inn Again. Read my full review here: neverstayathojosa[dot]ueuo[dot]com

Pros: None

Cons: Intolerably Rude Management

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After riding my motorcycle through several hundred miles of winter rain, I arrived at the Howard Johnson Express Inn - San Antonio (13279 West IH-10, San Antonio TX 78249) just before 5:00am CT on 24 December 2009. I was exhausted, soaked, shivering cold, and badly in need of warmth and rest. I held a printout of my Orbitz reservation against the glass door of the front office to convince the young Indian night clerk to let me in. He informed me that although my three-night stay was prepaid, I would not be allowed to check in before 11:00am. Desperate for shelter from the wet and cold, I readily agreed to pay the full rate for an extra night in order to check in immediately. The clerk then noted that my reservation was for a ground floor room with a king bed, and that all he had available was a second floor room with two queens. I quickly said I'd take it. So he took my cash, handed me a key card, and assured me twice in the process I would have the option of either staying in that room, or moving to one like I had reserved later in the day.

I parked my Harley behind the motel, and then lugged my gear up to room 227. Once inside, I opened my "waterproof" touring bag to discover that almost everything I'd packed was soaking wet. So I turned the heater up to high, and began hanging and spreading my clothes to dry as best I could throughout the room. By the time I was done it was nearly 6:00am, so I returned to the hotel lobby for some hot coffee and nourishment. I was seated in the tiny breakfast nook eating tasteless powdered eggs and what I guessed to be airline surplus "turkey bacon" when the droning of the TV news channel was overcome by what sounded like an argument in a foreign language. I looked over my left shoulder to see the night clerk receiving what I suspect was a chewing-out from another Indian who was apparently his superior. That man then looked and pointed over at me, curtly demanding to know if I was "the guy in 227". I said I was, and he ordered--not asked, ordered--me to come to the front desk and re-register later in the day. I asked why, and he snapped back with "Because that is what you have to do!" Not being one to respond well to orders, threats or ultimatums, I made it clear to the irritating little tyrant that I would stop by the front desk when I was finished eating, and he could do whatever he needed to do then. He fumed back with "Fine!"

A few minutes later, I walked over to re-register with the ill-tempered (mis)manager I now know to be Majid Akbani. As he banged away on his keyboard, he arrogantly asserted "Let's see if I will let you stay in the same room." Well, having spent all that time spreading out my wet clothes in a room I'd been told twice was mine to keep, I assured him that I expected that commitment to be honored. He sharply blurted back that my room assignment was *his* to make, and threatened me with "I can kick you out right now if I want to!" Shocked but not intimidated, I warned him that any such action on his part would assure more negative online reviews for him and his motel, and severely damage the Howard Johnson brand reputation for hospitality. He scoffed at that, claiming he "could care less" about his terrible reviews because the motel stayed booked up every night anyway. He then glared at me, and perhaps I glared back at him. And after a pregnant pause, his voice went up an octave as he shouted "You think I am afraid of you? I am not afraid of you! I am going to let you stay in 227, but not because I am afraid of you!"

Read the rest here: http://neverstayathojosa.ueuo.com/

1
★☆☆☆☆

After riding my motorcycle through several hundred miles of winter rain, I arrived at the Howard Johnson Express Inn - San Antonio (13279 West IH-10, San Antonio TX 78249) just before 5:00am CT on 24 December 2009. I was exhausted, soaked, shivering cold, and badly in need of warmth and rest. I held a printout of my Orbitz reservation against the glass door of the front office to convince the young Indian night clerk to let me in. He informed me that although my three-night stay was prepaid, I would not be allowed to check in before 11:00am. Desperate for shelter from the wet and cold, I readily agreed to pay the full rate for an extra night in order to check in immediately. The clerk then noted that my reservation was for a ground floor room with a king bed, and that all he had available was a second floor room with two queens. I quickly said I'd take it. So he took my cash, handed me a key card, and assured me twice in the process I would have the option of either staying in that room, or moving to one like I had reserved later in the day.

I parked my Harley behind the motel, and then lugged my gear up to room 227. Once inside, I opened my "waterproof" touring bag to discover that almost everything I'd packed was soaking wet. So I turned the heater up to high, and began hanging and spreading my clothes to dry as best I could throughout the room. By the time I was done it was nearly 6:00am, so I returned to the hotel lobby for some hot coffee and nourishment. I was seated in the tiny breakfast nook eating tasteless powdered eggs and what I guessed to be airline surplus "turkey bacon" when the droning of the TV news channel was overcome by what sounded like an argument in a foreign language. I looked over my left shoulder to see the night clerk receiving what I suspect was a chewing-out from another Indian who was apparently his superior. That man then looked and pointed over at me, curtly demanding to know if I was "the guy in 227". I said I was, and he ordered--not asked, ordered--me to come to the front desk and re-register later in the day. I asked why, and he snapped back with "Because that is what you have to do!" Not being one to respond well to orders, threats or ultimatums, I made it clear to the irritating little tyrant that I would stop by the front desk when I was finished eating, and he could do whatever he needed to do then. He fumed back with "Fine!"

A few minutes later, I walked over to re-register with the ill-tempered (mis)manager I now know to be Majid Akbani. As he banged away on his keyboard, he arrogantly asserted "Let's see if I will let you stay in the same room." Well, having spent all that time spreading out my wet clothes in a room I'd been told twice was mine to keep, I assured him that I expected that commitment to be honored. He sharply blurted back that my room assignment was *his* to make, and threatened me with "I can kick you out right now if I want to!" Shocked but not intimidated, I warned him that any such action on his part would assure more negative online reviews for him and his motel, and severely damage the Howard Johnson brand reputation for hospitality. He scoffed at that, claiming he "could care less" about his terrible reviews because the motel stayed booked up every night anyway. He then glared at me, and perhaps I glared back at him. And after a pregnant pause, his voice went up an octave as he shouted "You think I am afraid of you? I am not afraid of you! I am going to let you stay in 227, but not because I am afraid of you!"

Read the rest here: http://neverstayathojosa.ueuo.com/

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