The last time I used Priceline.com, it was to purchase cheap airfare to Chicago. My outbound flight was cancelled due to weather, leading to a game of phone-tag that went on so long, my ancient cordless phone died while I was holding for the umpteenth time waiting to get some service. I never got to Chicago that weekend.
Fast-forward about 9 no-Priceline-using years. The economy, well, it’s not great. Everyone is buzzing about how the site can get you hotels in big cities for $50 a night.
On a return trip to Chicago, while I had no trouble getting cheap airfare without guessing games, a place to stay was a big problem. It appeared most hotels wanted $200 a night and up. Apparently, there was some morticians convention, or something else medical-related. Chicago is constantly having these big conventions that double room rates around town. Sadly, the service and awesomeness of the experience never double along with.
For fun, I take a gamble. Why not try for a room at $70 a night, anywhere Downtown or in the Near North area? I get a bite – the Hotel Indigo on North Dearborn Parkway, in the heart of the city’s exclusive Gold Coast neighborhood.
Indigo is one of those upscale casual brands from the Intercontinental / Holiday Inn people. The interiors look as if the designers raided the Beach House / Summer Party collection at Pottery Barn, if such a collection exists. Everything’s blue, green, white and warm. It’s really a lady’s hotel. No matter – I check the morning of arrival to see what the rates are doing – anyone booking last minute would be paying $245 a night. Talk about a score.
Of course, the moment I checked in, I remembered why I stopped using Priceline. While I may have saved a tremendous amount of money, the hotel knew this and the Slovakian ice queen that checked me in made sure I knew how displeased she was.
Miss Slovak Republic upsold me to a room with a “very big difference” for $10 a night (total of $30), which turned out to be a room that had not been properly cleaned in, oh, since the Indigo debuted a few years back.
Dust everywhere. Thick layers of it. Rust on the bathroom light fixture – lots of it. Mold on the ceiling above the shower – impossible to miss if you just look at it, which nobody ever has. White wood furniture that was yellowish-brown from a couple of years of cigarette smoke and goodness knows what else.
The fun went on. Sticky floors, dusty accent pillows on the bed (gross), creaking springs on the mattress, a wireless signal that cut in and out faster than a taxi driver in rush hour traffic, sloppy housekeepers who replaced soaps only once in three days, never replaced the in-room coffee properly, an in-room heat/air unit that blew dust at me, a smoke detector hanging from the ceiling by its bare wires; incidentally, a smoke detector that beeped incessantly every time steam came out of the bathroom. I wasn’t going to be in the room all that much, and was actually so intrigued by the state of the room, I wanted to stick around and see if any improvements would be made during my stay. None. On the day of check-out, everything was as awful as it was when I arrived.
Down at the front desk, the ice queen glared at me as I related all the things that were horrible about the room to her colleague, who made a big production of calling everyone on her two-way radio with every complaint I had, a production that everyone around the front desk at the busy check-out time could witness, whether they wanted to or not.
It seemed strange – was she attempting to shame me into shutting up, or was she showing guests how eager she was to fix problems?
Once finished, she handed over my bill, which was only for parking at this point. There was little to no satisfaction she could offer me for my troubles, if she had been interested in doing so – my credit card had been charged for my stay a month ago, and not by the hotel. Which she pointed out to me with some satisfaction as she waved me out the door, as if to say, hey – sorry you didn’t like the stay, next time, don’t be such a cheapskate and we’ll see if we can make the experience better.
If I had booked through the hotel – better yet, if I had booked through one of the many hotel groups where I accrue points for each stay through their frequent guest programs, the reaction would likely have been very different, particularly in this tough economy. Example: After a recent and similarly frustrating stay at an Embassy Suites near Cleveland (feel the excitement!), my entire balance was wiped to zero and a sincere apology was extended after I handed my laundry list of complaints to the front desk. This happened not because the hotel was feeling benevolent and/or contrite. It happened because I am a Hilton Honors program member in good standing.
Long story short? It was nice to save a lot of money on Priceline, but I never would have chosen the Hotel Indigo otherwise, which, at $249 for a basic room you can barely turn around in offering a thrilling ventilation shaft view, was overpriced and to be avoided at all costs.
The same weekend, I could have stayed in a Hampton Inn in a more convenient location for less than $200 a night. For the steep fee, I would have accrued a whole bundle of points. Also, I would have, most likely, received the room I wanted based on the notes and special requests that automatically are submitted with my reservation. The free nights I would be eligible to book, thanks to my loyalty to Hilton, more than make up the difference in what I saved using Priceline.
Interestingly, Priceline offered me the opportunity to extend my stay for another night at the same rate. Had the experience at the Hotel Indigo been just a little bit better, I was more than prepared to do so, because the only thing better than three nights in Chicago for $70 is more nights at the same price. I opted, instead, to do exactly what I should have done in the first place. I moved to a less attractively located Hampton Inn, which, last minute, was going for $110. The parking was free instead of nearly $40 a night, the hotel had just been nicely renovated, the room I requested – end of hall, away from noise and elevators and groups – was the room I received. Lesson learned.