Live from the Seneca Lodge Bar

Everyone knows that when you go to a race, you're going to pay out your ass and every other orifice for a hotel room. Therefore, it isn't always reasonable to stay in the presidential suite at the five star hotel. With this in mind, we booked our deluxe accommodations...

When: August 2004 and 2005
Where: Glen Way Motel, Watkins Glen NY

The Glen Way Motel is one of the swankiest motor court motels in the greater Watkins Glen area. It's nestled behind a huge white house right off the main drag in the village, with a U shaped arrangement of approximately 15 rooms. The parking lot is small enough as it is, and with the race bringing in the big old pickup truck drivin' rednecks, it is fairly challenging to maneuver. To add to the excitement of parking, the proprietor of the establishment has added an obstacle course in the form of an orange construction cone surrounded by police tape, right in the center of the lot. The cone is supposed to demark a raised drain, but in the two years we've been staying there, the cone hasn't moved, nor has the drain been repaired.

Upon entering the house door marked "Office", we met the aforementioned proprietor of the Glen Way Motel, an ancient Asian man, whom we have nicknamed "Long Duk Dong", or "Dong" for short. Dong is actually a very friendly guy who appears to be at least 75 years old. My cohort and I have a rule... when one of us sees something that horrifies us, whether that be stupid behavior or a complete lack of judgment in fashion choices or something utterly disgusting, we point it out to the other. When we checked in last year, I noticed that Dong had a hair sticking out of his nostril. When I say hair, I may as well have said tentacle because this sucker had to be at least an inch long. Jesus Christ, don't you have a mirror? Cut that thing off! So of course, I pointed it out to my cohort. Then the comments started about whether or not he should braid it or make it into one giant dreadlock... needless to say I needed at least 4 Labbatts to get that out of my head.

When you step into the office, you feel like you've gone back in time to 1962. There isn't a piece of electronic equipment in the joint, unless you want to count the coffee maker (which, incidently, looks like it's also from 1962.) Even the telephone is a rotary dial. Speaking of the coffee, you should see this stuff. First of all, when you walk in the door of the office, this wall of burnt coffee stank smacks you right across the face. The source of the stank is this piece of crap Mr. Coffee that is so old, the carafe looks like frosted glass from all of the mineral deposits over the years. Just when you think it can't get any better, you spy a cardboard sign on the wall upon which is scrawled "Free Coffee". Now I'm a serious coffee drinker, but dude, there ain't enough Cremora in the world to make this 10W-30 appealing.

There is a flashback theme at the Glen Way, evident by the decor in the deluxe rooms! Our room was in one of the corners of the motorcourt, and we obviously had the presidential suite, because outside our door we had, count em, two plastic chairs AND a table! Once you get the door open, the room is about as big as a toll booth on the Thruway, and it smells like your great aunt's wig. The decor consists of two full beds, garage sale paintings, and some ratty shag carpet. We had two televisions... however, one didn't work and the other was mounted up on the wall, but didn't have a remote. We had one alarm clock, which became supremely unreliable because we had to unplug it to get to the outlet. Yes, we had two electrical outlets in the room. Oh that's helpful when you have two high maintenence chicks who absolutely must have their curling and flat irons!

The bathroom was at the front of the room, and you practically had to be a contortionist to get into it. The only ventilation was a flip down window that offered pretty much any passer by a good glimpse of your nekkid ass. The shower was a death trap. It was a 3 x 3 stall that looks as though it should have been encased in a wall. But in order to make sure that the parking lot was not the only exciting place at the Glen Way, Dong just left the enclosure free standing in the bathroom. God forbid you slip because the entire thing will come crashing down around you. Let us also not forget to mention the padded toilet seat cover, which is covered in yellow flowers and looks like something my grandmother had in her house when I was a kid. But there is an outlet in there, so it ain't all that bad!

I suppose we shouldn't knock the Glen Way too much. It's cheap, within stumbling distance to all of the bars on the strip in the evening, and you can stumble across the street in the morning to get some coffee at Burger King. Hell, you can even stumble to Mr. Chicken in a reasonable amount of time. We did have fun smoking Black and Mild's with our media buddies Jamie and Max from the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle (well, I smoked, my cohort just laughed at me). And let us not forget, this is the place that shall forever be marked as the location where my cohort put Mr. Connection in his place.

Alas, this race weekend we're staying at another motel, mainly because Dong screwed us out of our room. But we will always remember the Dong Motel with fondness... who knows... maybe we'll be back in 2007! I bet the same freakin' pot of coffee will still be there.