Eventually I got my room keys and went upstairs. Hot and thirsty, we went down to look for ice. The machine was empty. My girlfriend tried to call the front desk to find out where another machine was. The phone didn't work: the cord was gone! So she called the front desk on her cell. She learned that (shockingly) there's only one ice machine for something like 100 units. They told us they'd "reset" the machine and bring us a phone cord.
A few minutes later, while I was in the bathroom, I heard my girlfriend shout out in a startled voice. The motel staffer had let himself into the room without knocking.
That night our toilet backed up, threatening to overflow (maybe that's why the floor in the kitchenette was so sticky when we arrived...yuck!). We phoned the front desk, so we could fix it ourselves (it was 2am). "I don't think we have a plunger." "You're kidding, right?" They said they'd look again. Back to sleep.
30 minutes later, a loud pounding on our door. I opened the door to find a motel staffer staring at me silently. In his hand was a wet plunger, wrapped in a clear plastic bag. The bottom of the bag contained a brownish liquid. Yuck. We fixed the toilet ourselves.
In the morning, housekeeping let themselves into our room without warning. Again.