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Kenneth Cleaver

Consumer Correspondent

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Days Inn

P.O. Box 29004

Phoenix, AZ 85038-9004

Dear Days Inn:

I had the good fortune of being your guest this past March in Dearborn, Mich. What I learned during the course of my stay will remain for me a lifelong practice.

When I first noticed the remote control bolted to my night table, I was not a happy guest. Days Inn trusted me no further than I could throw a cheesecake underwater. Or so it seemed. As my anger passed, I began to contemplate my home and what I might want to bolt down.

For as long as I can remember, I have thrown my pillow in my sleep. I wake up to a stiff neck and my slumber cushion lost to the netherworld of a dark room. What was once a nightly hassle is now a fading memory. My pillow remains affixed to my sheets thanks to one reluctant Granny and her sewing prowess. Success #1!

My dog loves bones. She drags her marrow trophies around as if they were hard won on the Serengeti rather than the pet aisle of Shoprite. The bones are smelly, gross, and constantly underfoot. Zipper now battles bolted down bones in the corner of the living room. She's adjusting; I'm ecstatic. Success #2!

My favorite slippers now rest permanently beneath my favorite chair. My hairbrush is mounted to the bathroom wall, and it's great for loosening up my neck! I could go on for pages, but I only wanted to let you know how grateful I am. If one can look beyond the cynicism and distrust of a major corporate motel chain, they just might learn something. I sure did!

Sincerely,

Kenneth Cleaver Read the Response.

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