I’m currently sitting in a hotel lobby, wondering what the hell I’m going to write about for this Zombie Zoo, when the most obvious thing in the world hits me, why not write about those hotels that are more than happy to serve the undead. Of course, this would be a lot easier if I was actually staying in one of said, undead friendly hotels. Instead I’m staying at a Motel 6 wondering if the night clerk is about to come up behind me and bash me in the head based on the weird looks I just got. I know I should probably have put on some zombie cover all, but it was late and I didn’t want to wake anyone up when I made my way to the lobby. Here I thought I was being kind and thoughtful, turns out I’m just being a fright inducing asshole that is freaking out the clerk and that one janitor who made the sign of the cross at me before retreating into the bathroom. Though, come to think of it, that sign of the cross could have just been about something in the bathroom here. Lord knows I’ve made that sign myself before making my way into more than a few public toilets.
So this Zombie Zoo is going to be about undead friendly hotels. Those places scattered throughout the world that are accepting of zombies, ghouls, and any other kind of undead nasties. Some even provide meals, and you can guess what those meals are made of. That’s right, they’re made of you, or bits and pieces of you. Though I did stay at one that had an entire buffet for zombies, just one big human slopped down on a table and there for the eating. Eats like that at a hotel are a rare thing for a zombie though, happening only at those hotels that aren’t just friendly to the undead, but provide service to them and them alone. Like Hotel Transylvania, but with less wise cracking shenanigans and more sloppy chunks of flesh. Places like that are few and far between, so most zombies are going to be stuck going to the more common regular old hotels with set aside accommodations, a price list that varies depending on what you want, and maid service that comes with a guaranteed contract of silence.
The more common regular hotels are easy to spot. Have you ever seen those little signs in the upper corners of the buildings that are written in a strange script that evokes fear and terror every time you look at them? Of course you haven’t. You’d have every horror fan and their grandmother showing up and wondering what the mysterious signage led to. Why is it everyone and their grandmother by the way? Why is that the saying? Was there a time in history when people took their grandmothers to every place they could find? Was this such an ingrained part of society that it was expected that if everyone showed up, their grandmothers were bound to be showing up with them? Sorry, just a side thought that occurred to me. I have a tendency to ramble at times, I know. Anyway, back to undead hotels.
The hotels that are for everyone but make special accommodations are incredibly easy to spot, but it’s not because of any signage or marking on the walls. They’re easy to spot because there’s a handy dandy little brochure in every zombie union hall that lists them all out by state and country, so they’re very easy to spot, for a zombie, because you already know where they are. You simply call ahead for reservations and they make preparations, usually in a small block of rooms that are set aside specifically for the undead, though some of the larger hotels in more zombie frequented areas have been known to set aside a larger section of rooms. The great thing for them in having these set is that they can put them up in such a way that if they need the cash they can always rent out some of the rooms at the outer edges of the undead block, warning any members of the living to ignore the moans coming from next door by making up some kind of an excuse about the people having a light sleeper next door. I don’t know how that works personally, I would think most people would be pretty well aware of the difference between a light sleeper and a guy moaning the night away like he was in the throes of the most apathetic passion anyone’s been witnessed to. Then again, I’ve been dead for a very long time, it’s probably easier to think of the dude next door having sleeping problems than it is to think of him being among the living dead.
When you call ahead to make reservations, you have to pay whatever set price the hotel is going to have at the differing levels they’ll have them set at. All of these hotels are going to be a bit pricier than your standard hotel fare mind you, but it’s worth it to have a little bit of piece and mind. Trust me, sitting here worrying about whether I’m about to get offed by either the night clerk or the janitor is just no fun at all, not when I could have been peacefully ignoring that there were other living people in the hotel. The price point is going to depend on what you want. The cheapest packages are usually those that offer the simplest of accommodations, basically a place to lay your undead head down, and a promise that the maids aren’t going to say anything about what they might see. You have to be very careful with that last bit though. Sure, they’ll keep the hotel guest’s secrets to themselves, but the hotel is going to charge you up the ass if you mess up the room with all manner of blood and bits of gore. If you want a room where cleanup is included you’re going to have to settle with two things, one, a much higher price point, and two, a room that’s already pretty messed up. Blood stains are a pain to get out of a room, and you can’t expect them to be replacing the carpet every time some zombie messes it up. It might be kind of gross, but it is nice being able to bring a victim, or at the very least parts of them, to your hotel room and not having to worry about being all dainty with it. Have you ever tried to eat a nearly raw steak in a clean manner? Not very easy huh? Now imagine doing that with a human appendage that is still leaking fluids all over the place. Much more difficult. Damn near impossible if you ask me. Many, though not all, also have a third option, and it’s one of the best but requires the kind of scratch that would have netted you a celebrity suite at most hotels. These price points include human flesh that’s brought to you in little chunked up bits, so not only do you get the nice clean room, the confidence of knowing nothing living is about to burst in and murder you, and human flesh brought right to your door, but you get an extremely nice room. Some of them even have cable and a hot tub, but I wouldn’t recommend the hot tub. Dead flesh sitting in hot water does funny things.
The second kind of undead friendly hotel are the hotels that cater exclusively to an undead cliental, not always specifically zombies, but other creatures of the night as well. These places are a lot harder to find because they aren’t going to be on any map or travel destination, no matter how hard you look through the zombie union hall records. These places are known only to those that have either been there, or are high enough up the command chain that they’ve actually been invited. I’ve only ever been to one before, the one that offered the human buffet, and even then only because I got another zombie who had been there drunk enough that he told me where it was. It was an awesome experience, amazing rooms, great food, and no living humans for miles around, or at least no whole ones anyway. It was a superb experience, one of the best hotel experiences I’ve ever had. They had this bar that would poor drinks through fresh human heads that had been recently decapitated. How cool it that? I can only imagine how many humans they must go through on a daily basis though. I had so much fun there, I’d recommend you take a trip but, you know, you’d most likely end up as more of their stock. Plus, I’m kind of jealous of the place, I won’t even tell other zombies where it is…at least not without a few other drinks.
Well, that’s about it for this Zombie Zoo. The lobby is starting to get a bit busy and the clerk, who I have to admit is a rather nice person by the way, has warned me that some of their other patrons might be a bit shocked, and she’d hate for my Star Wars hoodie to get ruined.
Until next time, this is your unfriendly neighborhood zombie signing out.
The Undead Review