We,re the Toyota of extended stay, he says. Mr. Bigelow has long followed a different drummer. There's a meandering stream out back. Inside, cats named Taxes and Writeoff prowl the halls, occasionally knocking over things in Mr. Bigelow's office. He used to have a cat named Mortgage, but Mortgage died.
Visitors wait on wooden park benches in the lobby.
On a recent day, Mr. Bigelow sits at a desk in his inner sanctum with a headset on, fielding a steady stream of calls. Wiry and perpetually tieless, he looks like a radio talk-show host. My position is if it costs us a deal, it costs us a deal, he declares over his headset to one broker. Later, he details his business theories on a white board while a cat patrols behind his desk. His employees say he's a tough boss.