I’ve had a request for a funny hotel story. The problem is that the funniest story I know of about staying in a hotel didn’t happen to me and try as I may to think of an experience of my own that matches this one, I feel my fingers being pulled, as if this keyboard were a Ouija board, to tell a story about my brother.
My brother, to set the stage a bit, has been a sleepwalker his whole life. As kids we shared a room and it was one of the great pleasures of my childhood to watch him wander, in his blissful somnambulance, around our room, sometimes out of it. It was an odd little bit of magic in our house.
The differences between a random hotel room somewhere in the Midwest and the cozy safety of a childhood home, however, are vast. And when you’re sharing a room with a buddy, instead of your insomniac older sister, and the two of you have been out drinking, the chances that that guy’s going to be watching lovingly as you get up, in only your underwear, for a slumbering stroll, are smaller. So it was that my little brother awoke, in the middle of the night, to find himself in a generic and unfamiliar stairwell, in his boxers. And once the shock of the awakening had passed and he had re-placed himself in the world, then he had to face the realization that he had passed through not one, but two, doors without a key. He was locked into the stairwell.
Of course, as you know, it’s not actually possible to get locked into a stairwell in a hotel. Fire safety and all. You can always go down to the first floor. I feel bad for how much I love the idea of my little brother showing up at the front desk of this hotel, in only his boxers, asking for a key to his room. I wonder how long it took him to accept that this was what he was going to have to do. Did he hang his head, or hold it high? Did they ask for ID? Poor guy!
Maybe now I can think of my own funny or embarrassing stories, now that I’ve unblocked the valve. How about you? What’s your funniest, or most awkward hotel story?