This week I’ve stayed in what has to be one of the worst rooms in this hotel. I almost had a better one. When I checked in on Sunday afternoon, I was given a room number and two keys. I went upstairs, found the room, and used the key card. The card worked, the little green light came on and the bolt clicked as it unlocked. I pushed the door open to find an old woman already in that room. Luckily she was decent.

After a trip back to the desk and a conversation with an unconcerned desk clerk, I got a new room. While graciously unoccupied, this room is directly across the hall from a little cul-de-sac that hosts a vending machine, an ice machine, and a door leading to the housekeeping area. The housekeeping staff comes and goes from their area, allowing the heavy door to slam closed every time. The ice machine’s continuous buzz is punctuated every fifteen minutes by the crash of new cubes. Whenever a guest comes for ice, the motor whirs, and cubes are dumped into empty plastic buckets. I hear all of this clearly.

On the Weather Channel, the forecast for Fairbanks tonight read, “Bitterly cold.” And the forecast for tomorrow: “Bitterly cold.”