"There's a small hotel..."

I used to like planning vacations. Not any more. It's become too greedy, competitive, and complicated. Today I tried to reserve a hotel near Busch Gardens in Tampa. There were dozens, and they all had the same phone number. I like to talk directly to a hotel not some commissioned phone sales person in Denver, if not India. But that's no longer possible. More and more businesses are refusing to reveal their telephone numbers. I hate to think what would happen if you were desperate  to reach the front desk of a distant Hyatt that has hidden its phone number. But hotels today are not only secretive, they're liars. Or at least they have service centers lie for them. Many of the hotels I checked out advertised they were at Busch Gardens, but after closer interrogation, none of them were. Apparently five miles away is now considered across the street. I finally gave up dealing with the Debbies and the Scotts with their chipper attitude and corn-fed accents and decided that I will look for a hotel when I arrive. At least then I'll be dealing with people who actually work there.