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The Westmont is a hotel conveniently located just off the freeway on the outskirts of a mid-sized midwestern city. It’s one of a handful of hotels in a nicely landscaped, aging business park. 

This is the kind of place where the houses in nearby planned communities are newer than the office buildings in the business park. A real Field of Dreams approach to city planning on display here.

Some of the office buildings are new, modern – all glass and eco-friendly design. Most are straight out of a 1990s human resource training video.(That is to say, exquisite.) Businesses surrounding the office park are a mix of national chains and local Tex-Mex restaurants with sombreros on their signs. Everything is in a strip mall. 

In the middle of all of that is The Westmont. 

The reviews weren’t great. But that was neither here nor there because I didn’t read them before booking a room anyway. I did read them the day before my trip, because I’m a responsible traveler.

Most of them mentioned “a weird smell” or “the musty pool” or “the arcade only has one working game.” 

Not ideal. But, it was $70 and the meeting I was in town for was in the office building right next door. So, whatever. People like to complain on the internet, and complaining people like to exaggerate. It’ll be fine.

I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect to walk into a Christopher Guest film. Which, honestly, that’s on me.

Two people were being helped at the front desk by two middle-aged guys in embroidered Westmont logo polo shirts. One customer was a deeply tanned, dry looking woman with a lot of questions about her Gold Membership Benefits. The other was an older man whose station wagon in the parking lot was covered by home made advertisements for what I think was an independent disaster responder service. I know this because he was wearing a vest that matched the car.

To the right of the front desk was a small room with a few tables and chairs and a soda dispenser that looked closed. I realize soda dispensers can’t actually be closed, but I don’t know how else to describe it. 

I know what you’re asking. Was there a smell?

Why yes! There was a smell. It was…imagine if someone tried to scrub 30 years of cigarette smoke out of a hallway carpet using sweet pickle juice and regret. 

All of this was already a feast for the senses, but when I got on the elevator I was confronted by something that, I think, will stay with me a good long while:

I’ve looked at this thing a few dozen times at least, and every time is like looking with brand new eyes. This tattered Word document print out taped to the elevator wall just might be my favorite piece of found art. I love it so much. Let me count the ways:

• The 9am opening time
• “Bartesian”
• The confounding prices section as a whole
• The food options that may or may not be available
• “Merlo” and “Breese”
• That one of the food choices is a 2-pack of Hot Pockets
• That another is an entire pint of ice cream (flavor unspecified)

Amazing. Go look at it again. Really sit with it. Let it get into your head.

You’re not the same person you were before, are you.

That menu could have been an AI abomination. It could have been a piece of bland marketing collateral sent by corporate overlords. It could have been so much less interesting.

But instead, it’s this.

A puzzle.

A score of short story prompts.

A delightful bit of humanity hidden inside a place designed to be as bland and interchangeable as possible.

That sign is saying, “Sure, I may not be what most people would consider quote-on-quote successful, but where else can you get a 2-pack of Hot Pockets, a couple of Mai Tais and yeah, fuck it, why not, a pint of ice cream at 10:30 am on a Tuesday? Go ahead and charge it to my room honey, because I’m a goddamned Westmont Gold Member!”

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An epilogue, I guess?

The plans I had that night fell through, so I found myself with some time to kill, which I did by walking to the nearest convenience store for a six-pack of decent beer and some snacks to enjoy while watching garbage cable TV shows. Which is more or less what a place like this is for anyway, so can’t complain there.

The room was kinda shabby but it was clean, and the weird smell was in the hall, not the room itself. The TV worked, the door had locks, it was quiet, and the front desk guys were nice. Plus, it brought The Amazing Menu into my life and that alone is a 10/10 experience. Overall I had a fine time at The Westmont, but having experienced it I don’t feel a need to go back. Why ruin the magic, ya know?

(Yes, I know it is “quote, unquote” for real but that’s not how The Westmont says it.)