The Perfect Hotel Room: Is It Too Much to Ask For?

After hundreds of nights spent in all kinds of hotel rooms, I know how to design the perfect one.

The Bathroom

Let’s start with the bathroom since this is where hotels seem to screw it up the most.

Bathrooms should not make you wonder whether you are up-to-date on your vaccinations – Penida Dive Resort

Did you know 82% of divorces were caused by hearing a lover defecate? It’s true. Many architects find it romantic to put a partial wall or matte-glass “peek-a-boo” divider in lieu of a solid door. These architects, obviously, have never had a partner of any kind – not a lover, friend, or sibling. They’ve been forever alone. Imported from another planet where they were raised in solitary confinement. Or else they’d know that nobody wants to wake to the sound of a partner tinkling the night or catch a glimpse of a silhouette squatting on the toilet like a hunched-back gargoyle.

These types of bathrooms are the sole reason people are having children at a later age. It takes years to rebuild a libido after the trauma of a matte-glass bathroom honeymoon.

The bathroom should be completely soundproof and secluded. Make it a separate room. It must have a light switch with three settings: (1) a dim setting that doesn’t burn my corneas if I need to use the restroom at night, (2) a natural light setting so that I don’t mistake myself for a D.A.R.E. ad, (3) a disco ball setting for the novelty.

Jacuzzi-style bathtub. The tub needs to be opaque – not a clear glass bathtub like many of the trendier hotels are putting out there. Have you ever smushed your face against a window? Imagine that with your entire body. Nothing looks flattering at that angle.

The bathroom also must have a rainfall-style shower that plays an Amazon rainforest soundtrack in the bathroom. One knob adjusts the temperature while another adjusts the intensity of the forest (more or fewer amphibians). Tall people often complain that shower heads are placed too low. However, I’m 5’1” so put the shower head near the floor for all I care.

Give me the sounds of the forest as I bathe – The Beach House

The Room

California king sized bed, obviously. No weird smells, obviously. White sheets devoid of stains or hairs of any length, obviously (apparently this one is a LOT to ask). Soft bed, soft pillows – two pillows per person, no squeaking. When one person moves, the other should be left unperturbed. This type of bed provides the benefits of being single and a couple at the same time.

Don’t allow any sound of any decibel to enter from the outside world.

Outlets that double as adapters everywhere. Put them by the desk with a rolling ergonomic rolling chair and on both sides of the bed next to the nightstands. When in doubt, add five more. The room should buzz with the potential of electrocution.

Nice start, but needs about 12 more outlets – The Beach House

There also needs to be enough space to put my clothes away. They can be cabinets, a closet, or a dresser. It cannot simply be a measly luggage rack. Do these hotels think that I really want to sleep in a room with dirty clothes exploded all over the floor as if I were at home? Don’t they realize that I am on vacation and therefore better, cleaner versions of my normal self?

Or at least give me the option to be.

Once the light shuts off the room needs to be an oasis of darkness. Every time I open my eyes, I should wonder if I’ve finally died and gone to the void. No blinking air conditioning light. No TV light. No clock LED. No smoke detector light. No light creeping in from the balcony. No light peeping in from underneath the hotel door. Just before sunrise, allow the curtains to let in a bit of natural sunlight so that it doesn’t feel as though I’m waking up in Jeffrey Dahmer’s basement.

Allow a simple motion sensor to trigger the coffee machine within ten minutes of my awakening.

Is this all too much to ask?