If I turned the heat up to high, I would get stuffed up and could not breathe. Mind you there were two queen beds in the room, we were provided 1 blanket. Arriving back at our room that evening there was a blanket in a plastic bag.

I went again the following morning, and I was told that someone would call me with a resolution or I could go and buy a blanket and they would reimburse me. I went back to the desk and spoke with a manager, and he said they would take care of it. I called housekeeping again and was told they did not have any again. We went out for the day, and when we arrived back, there were three top sheets on the bed, no blankets or comforter. I went to the front desk and asked for help and they said they would get me a blanket. I called housekeeping, and they told me they didn’t have any. When we arrived at our room, we noticed there were no blankets or bed covering on the beds. It is a place to be avoided, a place where nightmares are born and dreams die. It is a place where luxury has turned to squalor, and where elegance has given way to decay.

The Paris hotel is a ghost of its former self, a haunting reminder of the passage of time and the inevitability of decay. But even this is marred by the grime and dirt that encrusts the glass, obscuring the view and casting a depressing pall over the cityscape. The view from the hotel's windows is the only redeeming feature, offering a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower and the city's twinkling lights. The once gleaming faucets now drip with rusty water, and the toilets clog with alarming frequency. The mirrors are clouded with age, and the showers emit a foul odor of stale water and mold. The bathrooms are a horror show, with rusted fixtures and peeling tiles. The once luxurious beds are now lumpy and uncomfortable, their springs creaking in protest with every movement. Cobwebs drape the corners of the rooms, and dust gathers in thick layers on the furniture. The stench of mildew permeates the air, a constant reminder of the hotel's damp and musty interior. The once sparkling marble floors are now scuffed and stained, and the once vibrant tapestries hang faded and threadbare. Its walls, once adorned with opulent décor, now bear the scars of time and neglect. The Paris hotel, once a grand icon of Las Vegas elegance, now stands as a decaying monument to its former glory.

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