The following is a representation of a day in the life of one of AAA’s team of professional lodging and restaurant inspectors who, along with the establishments, remain anonymous.

When friends try to picture the life of a AAA inspector, most see the glory of afternoon tea on the terrace overlooking the ocean; dinner in the finest restaurants; sleeping in luxurious rooms on fine Egyptian cotton linens; travel to exotic locations; and mingling with the rich and famous.  But I assure you that the typical day is filled for the most part with the tedium of very ordinary tasks.

The reality: A wakeup call at 6:00 a.m. in Minnewishigan at a budget motel that was being evaluated for concerns raised in a member complaint.  After starting up the coffeemaker, I pay a visit with Ma Bell to check voice mail and another with the computer to check email and organize the day’s work. I’ve packed up, checked out and loaded up the car in preparation for a quick departure (or hasty retreat) – that is, after inspecting this motel. 

As it turns out, this area of town has become blighted over the years due to a depressed economy. A 24-hour truck stop next door has brought business that comes in at all hours and noisy diesel engines that run all night and affect a guest’s ability to get a peaceful night’s rest.  Like water in a leaky boat, sound pours in and threatens to devastate its precious cargo.  I know because I spent the night here and heard doors opening and closing all night.  I had to leave my own TV on all night to drown out the noises creeping in from all around me.  At one point I thought I could hear my neighbor coughing up a lung. 

In our members’ best interest, it was time to remove the AAA approval from this aging relic and this was not welcome news for the operator.  I bid him farewell and good luck as I tucked away my emotions and drove off the lot for the last time.  I was on my way now, in a sense to relieve my tensions from the previous bit of nastiness, but in reality I was off to conduct two campground inspections – side by side as luck would have it. 

Both were out in the country, well off the main thoroughfare and nestled on the banks of a tiny stream.  Each inspection involved walking around the campsites, checking out electric, water and sewer hookups, restrooms, toilets and shower facilities, the dumping stations, and trash facilities - even a couple of pit toilets in one tenting area.  It doesn’t get much more glamorous than this, n’est ce pas?  Here, everything looks tip-top today with the only comments left behind with the operator about a fallen tree limb noted at one campsite.  The three mosquito bites on my hand served as a reminder of why I’m not a camper. 

The next motel inspection on my itinerary was an hour away, but as I opted for an early start as opposed to breakfast, I planned on an early lunch at a highway restaurant we list in our travel information on AAA.com and in TourBook guides.  While some might consider it remote, it was located on a highway between two major cities, which makes for a useful rest stop for AAA members.  Not the kind of place you need reservations.  You just show up and take a seat, nod at the cook, and wait for your waitress to pour coffee.  Lunch here is a buffet, and today it was Ukrainian – all the pierogies, kielbasa and cabbage rolls you could eat for one low price.  But, each year, what I really look forward to here are the sticky rolls (cinnamon rolls drenched in gooey toffee rather than brown sugar and icing, with a handful of pecans thrown in for good measure) – which I invariably take in a to-go container for later enjoyment. 

A quick inspection of the bathroom let me know that all looked just fine here and I knew our members would enjoy this simple Two Diamond rated diner.  I settled up with the cook and figured I’d call back later to update our listing information – just one more way to stay as anonymous as possible.  Who would remember me when I called back tomorrow? 

One more motel inspection for the day would involve a lengthy chat with the owner.  I always feel good stopping here because the operator is always happy to see the AAA inspector.  It’s one of the ways he keeps up with what’s going on in the industry.  He was happy to know that his plans to add wireless internet service at his property would then allow me to stay at his property in the future – “road warriors need computers, and computers need hook-ups.  And by the way, you might want to mention to your maids that they need to pay closer attention to wiping down telephone ear and mouthpieces, and wiping dust from the tops of picture frames.”  Other than that all looked well-attended.  The maintenance guy who escorted me around the property (he said he was eighty) was born and raised here (a town with a population of no more than 1,200).  When I quipped that he had lived here his entire life he said, “Not yet, young feller.”  And I thought indeed, not yet – a slip of the tongue. 

My schedule called for an overnight stay sixty miles up the road and with the clock ticking away, I bid him farewell.  The work in the area I was headed required a four-night stay and past experience had taught me that this motel I was going to offered all the amenities I needed (a comfy bed, air conditioning, a big desk, bright lights, high-speed internet, a small refrigerator, a big TV with lots of channels, in-room coffee, iron and ironing board and parking just outside my door) at a price that was well within the AAA budget.  No restaurants, meeting rooms, indoor pools or exercise facilities – those would not be needed for this stay so why pay extra? 

Just on the outskirts of town, a Stop-And-Go was calling my name.  I went in for some bottled water, diet soda and a half pint of cream.  I drove the remaining two blocks and checked in to my home for the next three days.  In my room I stocked the fridge with my purchases and sticky rolls.  I moved the desk so that it was closer to the telephone beside my bed, and had a perfect view of the TV.  I set up my computer, plugged it in and got connected to the internet.  I unpacked the shirts and slacks from my suitcase to hang on the wall rack and moved my toiletry kit to the bathroom.  I slipped into a T-shirt and shorts and sat at the computer and prepared the day’s reports to be sent in to the national office.  Once the reports had been completed and after a quick check of email and voice mail it was time for dinner.  It was 7:00 pm!  No wonder I was hungry. 

A AAA auto travel counselor in my hometown had advised me that on a recent trip here, she and her husband found a really enjoyable restaurant that might be a very good travel information listing.  My plan was to dine there tonight.  I called ahead for reservations and was told that tonight was fish fry night, very popular with the locals, but that the regular a la carte menu would be available if I really wanted to go that route.  Dress code?  “Oh no trouble – just come as you are.  No one’s been refused yet.”  I just love small-town America. 

Sure enough, when I drove up to the restaurant, the parking lot was full – always a good sign.  At the door I was greeted by the hostess who led me to a table by the far wall.  A small salad bar was set up nearby and waitresses well on their way to their golden years zipped by in a practiced fashion choreographed by years of experience.  One came by and called me “Hon” as she dropped off a relish tray with rollmops, candied watermelon rinds, carrot sticks, celery, broccoli florets and those tiny little cornichon pickles and miniature corn cobs.  Another waitress who flew by with only a smile by way of greeting, casually dropped off a basket of rolls and a dish of foil-wrapped butter. 

The fish fry consisted of deep-fried perch caught out on the lake nearby, and French fries, and that’s why everyone comes here on Tuesday nights “don’t you know?”  Much as I wanted to partake, I ordered a sautéed walleye entrée instead from the menu, along with a cup of beer cheese soup (made with smoked cheddar from a local cheesemaker).  My waitress, Lizelle, was amazed that I was not going to partake of the famous fish fry and promised to sneak a piece of the fried treasure for me so I’d know for next time. 

When I asked about wine, I was asked red or white.  When I said white, the server disappeared and was back in a flash with a small glass of white wine – “we only have four choices: red or white and take it or leave it.”  Out came my walleye on a huge platter, dripping in butter, surrounded by lime slices with a side of rice pilaf and a vegetable medley.  On a separate plate was a mountain rather than a sample of fried fish.  As I was finishing off my dinner with a slice of coconut cream pie and coffee I noticed a giant of a man with a guitar and the lady who had greeted me at the door as they walked out onto a small stage by the bar.  They started singing folk songs from the sixties, and soon everyone in the place was singing along.  “Puff the magic dragon, lived by the sea, and frolicked in the autumn mist ...”  Well, you get the picture.  When I asked who they were, a server said, "The one with the beard is the cook, and the lady is his wife. They run the place.“

Lizelle brought my check as well as a big tin foil dish of leftovers.  “You bought it so you might as well take it home with you” was her response to my puzzled look.  All I could think about on my way back to the motel was how truly enjoyable this experience had been, and that it was now up to me to make sure that any member who might be traveling in this area would know that AAA had been here and given this restaurant its approval. 

I devoted twenty minutes to creating just the right prose to recommend this delightful establishment to our members. The rating was a Two Diamond, by AAA’s definition “a familiar, family-oriented experience…reasonably priced…accommodating and relaxed service in casual surroundings.” 

By 11:30 p.m. my report was finished and uploaded to the master ship (that’s AAA’s national office to the uninitiated) and I had checked in with voice mail and email one last time.  I called the front desk for a 6:30 am wake-up call – I feel I earned the right today to sleep in - and prepared to hit the sack.  Sleep came slowly as my mind replayed the day - but when it came, it was peaceful and uninterrupted.

The last thing I remember thinking was that this had been a good day.  Some days have been better and some days have been worse.  But this had been one day in my life as an inspector.  In 23 years of service to AAA/CAA there have been 8,395 days.  And, generally speaking, each day has contained much that is ordinary and mundane, like looking under beds and toilet seats, in closets and drawers, checking for makeup and gunk on telephone handsets, lifting cushions and mattresses, etc. ad infinitum.  Not the stuff of legend and glory! 

But, every so often something comes along that is spectacular (most often in an ordinary way) – like tonight’s dining experience.  Even though, for the AAA inspector, extraordinary comes at the cost of more work and less sleep, when those moments or occasions arise I celebrate my good fortune.  For this is not so much a job as a way of life – maybe even an adventure when I dare to dream.  Fade to Jackson Browne and the line in one of his haunting ballads that always seems to speak to me, “...and when the morning light comes streamin’ in, I’ll get up and do it again. Amen."