What could possibly be better than spending a couple of weeks working in Indiana, PA? If you guessed nothing you’re pretty close. But believe it or not, I found something. The only thing better than spending a couple of weeks working in Indiana, PA is fighting a rather vicious bedbug infestation whilst one enjoys one’s couple of weeks in Indiana, PA. It’s been an adventure.
I’ve been the lucky one. I counted 14 bites last time I checked. My coworker has close to 50. We started noticing the bites a few days ago and we both immediately requested new rooms. Apparently, we’re delicious, so when we packed up and lugged all our freshly unpacked crap into another room, we packed some more bedbugs as well. I requested that the hotel wash all my shit, figured it was the least they could do. The manager called me while I was at work and told me she “would be happy to personally wash all [my] clothes.” She also offered to pay for Kevin’s as well (he prefered to do his own laundry at the laundromat).
While at work, we both found a couple new housewarming gifts from our guests, and decided we were done with that place. We got home and I found that, unbelievably enough, my clothes remained completely unlaundered. Not only that, but despite putting the little card that said to wash my bedding on my pillow as instructed, and my rather well-vocalized concerns about a bedbug infestation, the maid refused to wash my bed because my computer was on it and she didn’t want to move it.
Needless to say we checked out, packed up our crap yet again, and hit up the much nicer and only slightly more expensive Hampton Inn a little ways down the road. We spent our Friday night hanging out in the laundromat across the street from the campus of the little college in town and doing five loads of laundry between us. We also left what we were wearing and our shoes and crap in trash bags in the car as apparently cold kills the little shits. Made for some chilly boots in the morning, but that’s a small price to pay…
But I suppose it was a blessing in disguise. Neither Kevin nor myself have found any more bites, and our accommodations are now much, much nicer. So, assuming we don’t bring home any hitchikers, I’ll chalk it up to one of the many unforseen occupational hazards of the travel gig, enjoy sleeping under my sweet down comforter, and never stay at that shithole Comfort Inn again. Sucks for them, I’m the cream of the crop when it comes to hotel customers, but I won’t be losing any sleep over their lost income (I just can’t stop it with the puns, can I?) .
Sleep tight, and don’t let the bed bugs bite.