Has your hotel room REALLY been sanitized for your protection?” asks the caption in a catalog for a company named Magellan’s, which sells travel supplies.

Good question.

The last hotel Marsha and I stayed in left no doubts at all.  We were quite certain that the glasses were clean and the towels and sheets had been changed, but there was evidence of previous occupants in our room.  Subtle hints, you know.  Little things. Sherlock Holmes things.

For example, the prior occupant was young, and probably of Asian heritage and was better groomed when leaving the hotel than when arriving.  This was quite evident from the perfectly straight and pure black (not a trace of gray) hairs, all evenly cut, as with a barber’s scissors, that littered the floor, and by the bar of wet soap left in the shower stall and the wet rubber mat with suction cups rolled and left next to said shower stall.

I read on in the Magellan’s catalog description. “Just darken the room and flip the switch on the Hotel Room Inspector to find out.  This lightweight device uses ultra-violet light to detect contamination on bed and bath linens, carpets, countertops, toilet seats, or anywhere…” 

I’ve watched enough CSI shows to know that all kinds of yucky stuff will show up on bed sheets if you darken the room and illuminate them with ultraviolet light.

The question is:  Why in the world would you want to know, and, if you found yucky stuff, what would you do about it?

Change rooms?

Sure.  If the housekeeping is suspect in Room 126, won’t you be likely to encounter problems in Room 314?  And, the problems in Room 314 can only fall into one of three statistical categories.

          #1:  Worse

          #2:  The same

          #3:  Better

Since only #3 would keep you from demanding yet another move, this time to Room 527, and since the probability is only one-in-three that #3 is what you will find in Room 314, and since your move to Room 527 will have the same likely results---it is all enough to make your head spin, especially at 11:35 p.m.. Pacific Standard Time after you’ve been on the road since 5:30 a.m. Eastern Standard Time and you’ve been jostled and probed and suffered bumpy flights and traffic jams and people in the terminal who don’t understand that you don’t have to scream into your cell phone to be heard and….

Or, you could go to another hotel.

So, let’s say you check out of the first dirty hotel and go to another---tired, angry, and hungry.

The desk clerk is waiting on the one person in line ahead of you, a pleasant looking woman named Mrs. Graffrod, which you know because she is wearing a name tag for the American Society of Rug Weavers, said name tag saying, “HI—MY NAME IS MRS. GRAFFROD.” 

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Graffrod.  I hope you enjoy the convention.  You are lucky that we had one room left for you.  You know, you Rug Weavers have taken every hotel room within 100 miles!”

Wouldn’t it be better not to know the sheets were dirty?

Especially since the same catalog advertises a “silk Dreamsack” for you to carry in your luggage and to climb into like a super-light-weight sleeping bag.  According to the catalog, “Those hotel sheets may look clean, but you’re wise to be wary.”

Or, you could order, from the same page, a spray that neutralizes bacteria, germs, mold, mildew and EVEN BED AND DUST MITES!

I didn’t check, but I’ll bet they sell gigantic suitcases, too.

                                  Jim Whitehouse

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