Hotel Workers Are Revealing the Gnarliest Things They've Seen in Guest Rooms

Years ago, I worked in one of the largest Las Vegas hotels and I was the only front desk staff member that wanted to investigate suspicious rooms, so security always asked me to go up with a master key and unlock the room for their investigation. I saw four deaths in three years, which is about the average for a Las Vegas strip hotel.

One Friday, we had a full weekend and a single room hadn’t yet checked out by late checkout, and so up we went.

Opened the door and found almost a literal grocery store of treats and sweets in this guy’s room. Maybe twenty uneaten full cakes, hundreds of candy bars, pies, cookies and bags of fast food on every flat surface in the room, over four 50-gallon garbage cans in total.

I remember a big bakery cake with the price tag still attached falling onto a security guard’s head from the top shelf of the closet when they tried to get everything cleaned up.

A man was on the bed, not moving, looking quite dead. It was weird that I knew he was dead just by one second of looking at him. He was an obese man and I remember he had giant hands and feet way out of proportion to his body. Had a strange smell which I was told later was probably the beginning of decomposition.

One of the security guards ran and vomited and another one said “nope, not today” and just walked out. The other two security guys called downstairs and started looking around and I went to help the guard in the bathroom. He eventually left and I saw maybe two dozen small vials on the bathroom counter filled with a cloudy liquid, all insulin.

There was a refrigerator which we tossed in the dumpster because he had used it to store food remains and we couldn’t clean it, and that made me suggest that he had wanted to kill himself by overeating, even though the authorities didn’t say that was the cause of death until later.

A casino manager told me that in the two weeks that the guy had been in Vegas, he had run up over $100,000 in credit lines at multiple casinos and I asked a detective later who I knew to look up the file and he told me that the guy’s wife had divorced him and taken the kids, so I guess the guy went out the way he wanted to.

Another guy shot himself in the chest while lying down. Blood everywhere was disgusting and the dude that was on the Dave Attell show came to clean up the room, but I didnt get to talk to him.

Another guy looked like he had been strangled and we figured something bad went down. They blamed it on a drug deal because there was residue in the room, I guess. No one heard anything that time, he was also a guy that didn’t check out by late checkout.

Last guy was “compressed” to death, a heavy weight had been brought down onto him. He was found alone on his bed (late checkout again). The interesting thing about that guy was that it happened during a BBW (“big beautiful women”; think hundreds of women over 400lbs each) conference at our hotel, so we just assumed he died in some enjoyable fashion.

He was also a really tiny guy, like all the BBW fanboys are. The cops questioned a bunch of people but never arrested anyone from that one. We told the group they could never come back after they used the swimming pool as a latrine.

Username: [deleted]

One time I had an older gentlemen come down to the front desk after checking into his room. He was complaining about a lumpy chair that was so bad that he couldn’t sit on it at all and he was convinced there was something in the cushion.

At the time I was the only staff member on site (small Choice Hotel in a small town so I did maintenance, laundry and housekeeping when I had to). I went up to his room to investigate so I could determine which route I needed to take to please the guest.

I pulled up the cushion off of the chair and saw the largest, fire engine red anal dildo/butt plug I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I kid you not it was bigger than our coffee maker. Luckily my guest thought it was a dog toy but I still gave him a hefty discount.

Worst part was that we HAD to, according to hotel policy, hold the toy for 2 months in case somebody claimed it. We put it in a biohazard bag and kept it in a storage closet we never used. Nobody claimed it. I do have a picture, not sure how to post that here.

Another time I was working front desk, my GM was out running errands for the hotel, and the housekeepers were finishing up their rooms on the 2nd and 3rd floors. I’m minding my business, working on something at the computer, when all of a sudden I hear a loud popping sound that I thought came from our pool and or fitness room.

I thought somebody dropped a weight so naturally I went to see if someone was pinned under something, fighting for their life. Then the fire alarms go off. As I’m running to the fitness room, which is right past our pool room, I look into the pool area to find it filled with smoke. I couldn’t see anything it was so thick.

I started pounding on doors and yelling at the top of my lungs over the fire alarm, trying to get the attention of the housekeepers on the 2nd and 3rd floors who were working right above the pool room.

My maintenance tech was still in his office and I spotted him as I was about to go upstairs. He wouldn’t let me go past him so I was forced to exit the building.

I waited 5 excruciatingly long minutes before all my housekeepers made it out safely. 5 fire trucks, 2 cop cars, 1 ambulance and a frantic GM later, we found out it was a chemical reaction that was caused by a spark on a loose wire in our control room.

Nobody was hurt but our guests were pissed when we had to shut our pool down for a week.

The hotel biz is wild.

Username: branchonawillowtree

A room literally full of shit.

Had a longer term guest stay at the hotel I worked at the time. He stayed long enough to be considered a resident, so he couldn’t be kicked out without going through the courts and serving an eviction notice.

When he first arrived, he claimed he was a doctor and worked odd hours. Every now and then we would get calls about his room from guests next door or below him. The calls were to say he was stomping around his room in the middle of the night. We would call his room and he would apologize and say he was working late and it wouldn’t happen again; and it didn’t for a couple more weeks.

Every so often some random women would come to the lobby and drop off medication for him. The “doctor” would decline to have them drop it off in his room and he would ask us to hold it in the lobby for him, except he never came for it and it started piling up.

Fast forward to about four months into his stay when another regular (let’s call him Mr. B) happens to get the room beside the doctor. Mr. B comes by to tell me the “doctor” is acting strange. Apparently the “doctor” would come out of his room in his underwear and ask Mr. B if he wanted to be his friend and if he could hug him. Mr. B told me he was going to punch the “doctor,” if he came close to him.

At this same time, the “doctor’s” credit card declines so I call him up but he’s not answering. I proceed to file paperwork in the courts to have him evicted; it has been about a week now of the doctor’s credit card being declined. I call the room everyday and get no answer from him. I check with housekeeping to see if they’ve seen him while servicing his room and they say they haven’t seen him but he’s always in the bedroom portion of his suite and declines that room to be serviced.

At this point I assume he’s going to bail on us without paying his bill so I take one of the guest services supervisors (let’s call him Tom) with me while I go and deliver a letter letting him know he has three days to pay or he will be evicted.

As soon as I get to the door I knock and there’s no answer. I let myself in and as the door swings open a most disturbing smell hits us and Tom immediately runs back out and starts puking. I call out the “doctor’s” name and there’s no answer. I try to let myself into the bedroom but couldn’t get it open. I assume he’s blocking the door intentionally so I slide the eviction letter underneath and run back out.

The whole night I’m thinking what if that awful smell was his decomposing body? So the next morning I take a housekeeping supervisor (let’s call her Marsha) with me to check the bedroom. As soon as I open the door, Marsha also runs back out and starts puking. I make my way to the bedroom and force the door open. I notice the letter I slipped under had been opened and was tossed to the side.

I look all around and see piles of shit on the mattress, piles of shit on top of towels which had been thrown all around the room. Seems this guy had shat everywhere but the toilet. The piles of shit had been growing mold on the baseboards and wall paper of the room and the room was infested with flies and gnats. I run out and start gagging.

I had to hire an external company to come and sanitize the room as well as replace the carpet, baseboards and wall paper.

Username: [deleted]

I have an amazing story, but I was late to the party, I doubt anyone will see this.

I worked at a rather large hotel chain, in a city that never seems to sleep (doesn't eliminate much). And we had a guest who kept complaining that his room had a weird smell.

Now mind you, due to the time of year, we were fully booked, something we typically don't do, since we always had space to accommodate guests, however, this time, there just wasn't much we could do about it. So, we send house keeping up to this gentleman's room and they do a thorough cleaning open windows use air freshener etc.

The guy goes to bed, everything is ok. Wrong.... The next day the smell is back but a little stronger, we tell the guest, who is leaving to go "play games." That by the time he returned we would have everything straightened out etc blah blah.

Send house keeping, they do a more thorough cleaning, guest returns, room still smells, whatever he is tired and a little drunk, off to bed. The very next day, day 3 the room smells like someone literally died in it and now multiple rooms are complaining of a horrific smell, this time house keeping goes up and won't even go in the room, our hotel manager enters the room and the next thing we know, police is there.

Turns out a prostitute was dead and shoved under the bed. In this particular hotel, we had a wood panel under the bed, it went all the way around the bed, however, if you took the mattress off the bed, it was just an empty space.

That is where this lady was put, I never saw the body, but from what I hear it was a pretty horrible sight..... Now this is where the story gets interesting.

The last person to stay in this room was an older man, I had checked him in and checked him out, literally two days before the new guest checked in.

Turns out this old guy was a Catholic priest who worked locally, and was having sex with this prostitute who just croaked on him during some rough sex. Most likely a drug addict and died of a heart attack.

I quit working for this hotel very soon after, and never found out what came of all this. But from what I can speculate is this pastor guy, must have gotten scared, because this chick died, didn't know what to do, and rather than getting caught with this dead hooker, he hid the problem.

Reminds me of something my, dad used to say, whatever you hide in the dark, will come out in the light. So don't hide dead hookers. I know many of you won't see this, since I'm far down the list, but I hope you enjoy.

Username: thurst09

Alright, pretty late to the party so will most liekly be buried. Not a hotel worker, this is the story of what we did on a trip to disney land paris with 30 or so college students (17 - 18 year olds).

We were staying in the offical disney themed hotels, about 4-5 lads per room, our room had a connecting door to a room with more of our guys in so we just left it open for more company.

Anyways, one night one of the lads from the ajoined room came in drunk and thought it would be funny to draw a smiley face with shower gel onto one of the lads bed sheets so he did. Afterwards he thought he could make it more permanent by taking an iron to it, which he did.

Revenge was then taken out by the remaining 7 of us. In an act of instant retaliation this lads boxer shorts were put in the toilet. He then locked himself in the toilet while fishing them out and to hide from anymore abuse.

While he was locked away his suitcase and matress were put into the hall way and the handles of his suitcase covered in the shower gel. So about 10 minutes pass, we've calmed down and gone back to our respective beds, drunk lad still locked away in the toilet.

When the front door swings open to the ajoining room, in marches about 5 members of a bomb squad and fire department. The hotel had seen the bag on cctv and reported a bomb.

They are then checking out who we all are, by this time there are serious bricks being shat. They are knocking on the toilet door asking the drunk lad to come out. He just shouts back "I'm having a shit", but emerges 30 seconds later in just shirt and underpants - I cant remember what happened to his pants.

He goes back and sits on the bed slats as his matress is still outside, in an attempt to get comfy his balls drop from out his underpants and are just dangling there in full view of everyone and he is completely unaware. We then spotted about 3 of the bomb squad pointing and giggling.

So once everything is calmed down, one of the college tutors comes by and tells us how disappointed he is but also is very impressed.

The story became a bit of a legend within the college with the tutors retelling it as a warning for future trips. Though for obvious reasons the trip wasnt planned again for the folllowing year.

We were young and in our prime, it was stupid but also rather hilarious.

Username: jsgilly20

This was about 4 years ago or so, when I worked for a locally owned hotel at the front desk. We frequently had high school sports teams and college teams stay with us, because the hotel was sports themed and located in a college town.

This one junior high team came to stay with us for about 4 days during the summer. They booked all the adjoining rooms and suites. It was a boy's team, baseball I think.

Housekeeping would put uncleaned rooms on maintenance frequently when they were understaffed and we had just had a full house, so a lot of this team's rooms were put on maintenance without tickets when they left. It wasn't a big deal. We had a few more weeks before we would be full again so there was time, and usually team rooms would need a little more deep cleaning than a usual guest. But this time, there was this one suite that still haunts me.

So a little under a week after they left, the coach calls the front desk and I pick up the phone. He says his player left something in the room, and I tell him I'll look in our lost and found. I see that HK hasn't cleaned it yet and it's still on maintenance, which is kind of weird because it's been almost a week and the other rooms the team stayed in are cleaned by this point. But I decide to go to the room myself to look because there's nothing in the lost and found, and no one's been in there. Plus, I got a $25 prepaid Visa from a guest one time for going back into the room and finding her hairdryer or something as a thank you once.

So I open the door and the smell just hits me- teenage BO, rotten cum smell, old food, it's all there. The room is TRASHED. The bed is broken, the pull out couch is broken, there's rotten food everywhere and trash everywhere, the trash is overflowing in both sections of the suite. The bedding and pillows are strewn all over the room. There are chairs on the ground, laying on their sides. And it looks like the dressers/TV stand are covered in this dried white liquid. Just covered. Not like a little bit or an accident, like some kid purposefully jizzed on the drawers and tried to draw a pattern. Or multiple kids, because there was a LOT, and on more than one piece of furniture.

Now I'm not saying it was cum. But if it walks like a duck and all that... Anyways.

HK had just let it rot for almost a week because no one wanted to clean it. I took pictures of the probably cum stained dresser (I'll see if I can find them later), the broken furniture, and the general mess to send to my manager so we can charge the team for it. I can't find whatever thing I'm supposed to be looking for and I'm gagging so hard at this point that I have to leave the room.

So, I go back to the desk, and in the most polite voice I can muster say whatever the thing is isn't in our lost and found and I'd be happy to take down his name and number if we find it. There's no way I'm telling him he's paying for the room or what I found or that HK hasn't cleaned it yet. He's mad at me, but I stand my ground and get off the phone.

We had to put the suite on maintenance for about a month and a half to fix everything, and clean and sanitize the room.

I think one of the parents or the coach calls back later asking about the charges on the card, but I sent him to our manager's phone immediately and washed my hands of it.

I try not to think about how 4 14-16 year old boys made that kind of mess. The smell still haunts me.

Username: Fraeyalise

Not a hotel worker, but here's my story.

I was 19 at the time and my friends and I all decided to go up to Wisconsin Dells to go to the casino... which was 18+ at the time. I mention this as it has since changed. Anyway... we stay at this brand new Holiday Inn Express place somewhat away from the Dells to save some cash. Another important aspect to this story is that this is before 2001.

For whatever reason, my friend had an orange locker key, which was a running gag of some sort. About 2am we're still up and fucking around when these total hippy stoner folk show up at the hotel. We talk to them, they seem cool, they tell us what room they are in if we want to smoke with them. Cool, though at the time I wasn't into that sort of thing.

My friend decides it's time to have some fun. We go down to the lobby and start acting as suspicious as possible... like really overdoing it in a melodramatic sort of way. My friend approaches the counter and the derpy night manager and says "A man with no distinguishing marks will approach the counter and say 'Dead ducks don't fly backwards.' Give him this key. I was never here." and then we all leave the lobby and go back up to our rooms.

So then we call the stoner guys and tell them there is something for them at the desk and what to say.

We just thought it was funny the front desk guy bought it and that these dudes would be wondering WTF to do with this locker key.

At this point Braveheart was on, so we started watching that. The main battle scene is starting and there is a knock on the door... not your average knocking, but a WHAM WHAM WHAM. My friend gets up and he looks out the peephole and turns around and is like "OMG THERES LIKE A TON OF COPS!" (In hindsight, these must have been shitty cops to have been standing in front of the peephole like that, not knowing what was on the other side) and then says "WHAT DO I DO?"

My obvious reply is something along the lines of "You open the door, numbnuts."

There must have been 50 cops. Most of them had shotguns. Luckily the guy in charge quickly saw that we were just a bunch of kids, and he had probably talked to the night manager and realized he was kind of a dweeb and just to fuck with us a bit asked for our IDs (which I couldn't find and went back to watching Braveheart) and left.

They went and harassed the stoners too, but apparently didn't arrest them, thankfully. We found out later that they walked over the nearby overpass to get to the truckstop so they could try the key on the lockers over there. They also leaned a half full of water trash bin against our room door and shoved pennies in the key lock overnight.

In the morning, the main manager chewed us out, though none of us really felt we warranted the silly overreaction that was caused. He also chewed us out about the trashcan/water thing, and the pennies which was obvious that we didn't do... so it was obvious he was a dumbass too.

Username: TheoreticalFunk

Beautiful nearly dead middle aged white woman. I was working security at a hotel on South Beach one day I get radio'd to go to the front desk.

When I get there the Front Desk Manager (fdm) tells me that a lady was brought in by by some passersbys that saw her fully clothed and unconscious on the beach, these were genuinely good guys because instead of robbing her they went into her purse found her keycard and brought her to the hotel, anyways she managed to make it up to her room alone but the fdm didn't think that she was ok so he wanted me to go check up on her.

I asked the fdm to borrow one of his female associates, it's not something that I normally did but something about the whole situation made me feel uneasy.

we go up and the door is cracked but not open I knock a couple of times but there's no answer so I close the door completely and slide my card to log when I did it. I went downstairs with the front desk girl and then went back to the security office.

Fortunately for me the Director of Loss Prevention (dolp) was there, our hotel wasn't the one he normally came to and the LP supervisor hadn't shown up yet.

So we go upstairs and knock and knock and knock and there's no answer, this woman was barely able to stand last time someone saw her so we were getting worried, at that point. We both log our keys and go in.

We find her unconscious pale almost bluish and barely breathing, the dolp tells me to call 911, I'm 22 quietly freaking out thinking that Im looking at dead lady, the dolp seems cool as polar bears butthole throughout the whole thing even though he tells me he can't feel her pulse.

he starts rubbing on her sternum with no response the first few times he told me he was sure she was breathing but I didn't see it. Eventually she moans from the sternum rubbing which I'm pretty sure was just so uncomfortable that it some how slightly pulled her out of her stupor, every time she passes out completely he does this until the emt's arrived.

A few hours later I had just finished writing the report and getting everyone's statement and the cops arrive to tell us that she had reported that someone had molested her. When dlp asked if she might have mistaken the sternum rubbing for fondling one cop told him that that wasn't the region that she said she was touched at.

When the fdm was asked if it could have been the guys that brought her in he was certain that it wasn't since he's gay and was certain that the guys that brought her in were also. Had I not uncharacteristiclly brought up the girl from the front desk the suspicion would have fallen on me, I would have probably lost my job and/or worse.

For some reason that day every single minute of my day could be accounted for by camera, key log or an actual person. YAY ME!!!

Username: Imrealhighrightnow

Worked in a smallish boutique hotel in the middle of Brisbane, as a concierge and occasional handyman. The U.S Navy had a ship come to town and the city was flooded with sailors. We were pretty close to capacity and the boss basically said "No sailors, unless they booked in advance. Those guys are trouble".

So the place goes quiet and the other guy knocks off so I'm on my own from 6pm. Not long after, this sailor comes in with his bag and asks for a room. He's a short black guy, maybe late 20's. I tell him we're full, but he gives me a sob story and seems like a nice enough guy, so I give him a room. Our last single, #506. He thanks me profusely and heads upstairs.

30 minutes later he's back and dressed up. He comes over and we chat for a while, he turns out to be a really nice bloke. He asks me where he can get a nice meal, and where he might be able to meet some girls and have a dance later on. I give him some tips and a map and send him on his way. 11pm rolls around, my shift finishes and I split.

Back to work at work at 7am and the shit INSTANTLY hits the fan. I get half a dozen housekeepers who have just started their shifts running up to me as soon as I get in the door saying there's water coming from the ceiling in 306.

I head up there and, sure enough, the roof is leaking. Not too badly, but bad enough to fuck up some carpet and ruin a few people's day.

Thinking I better check the next floor, I head up to level 4. It's basically raining in the hallway right outside 406, the carpet's a swimming pool and the door has already started to swell. Things aren't looking good for 506 and when I get up there, my fears are realised.

506 is FUCKED UP. The shower is still running, the whole room is flooded and it's spread out into the hall. There's so much steam it's collecting on the roof in the bathroom and quite literally falling like rain. And then I remember... I stuck that little sailor in this room! **WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE DOING!?**

So I call the night guy that mans the desk and ask him if he saw a well-dressed little black guy come back during the night?

"That guy? You know him?"
"Maybe, why? What happened?"

"He came back at like 3 or 4 in morning, pretty drunk, WITH TWO OF THE BIGGEST, FATTEST CHICKS I HAVE EVER SEEN. And not even some regular big-girls that have been on the town.

These chicks looked fucked up and I think one might have been homeless! It was some of the funniest shit I've ever seen. Why are you asking anyway?"

Username: Mmm_lurky

So, my wife and I worked in a hotel in Denver for a while. I've got loads of stories, but this one was the most disgusting, by far.

This hotel was mostly weekly and monthly occupants. Laborers, students, some old folks, etc. One of the occupants was a teacher. Now, we routinely had minor issues with several guests, but most were easily dealt with.

One guy, though, we had to kick out. The teacher.
He had been staying there the better part of a year at least -- he was there before we started working there.

He was a really smart guy, seemed to always have a book on philosophy, history, or quantum mechanics in his hands. He got mail very rarely, but when he did, it was literature on flowers. Eventually, he divulged to us that he was growing some opium poppies in his room. We didn't raise an alarm, because we assumed that it was science-related, and I still don't think he was after the opiates.

However, this guy also never let housekeeping into his room. They'd come by, he'd request fresh towels and sheets, and new trash bags. From the doorway, his room appeared tidy anytime anyone saw into it. From all appearances, he was a clean, professional guy that just valued his privacy.

Then, the rooms on either side of him began to complain of bedbugs. Upon initial reports, we couldn't find any or evidence of any (it's pretty obvious when you know what you're looking for), so we did full changes on those rooms.

Our general manager was at the desk a few days later when Mr. Teacher came to get his mail. He opened it at the desk and nonchalantly invited us to come check out his flowers. So we did.

When we got into the room, nothing seemed off yet. His flowers were doing quite well in the windowsill. That's when I happened to glance at his unmade bed.

Y'all, the bed was moving. All of it. Bedbugs everywhere. Full infestation. My GM pulled some gloves out of his back pocket and walked over to the bed -- "Man, you've got bedbugs! Why didn't you notify anyone?" "Well, I, uh --" then the GM moved a pillow. There had to be thousands of them, all in a bunch, between the bed and the wall. They moved like a breathing sac of nope. It was the most horrifying sight I had seen in that place, and that's really saying something (the shit stories I read here don't really compare).

Confronted, Mr. Teacher says, "Well, they weren't bothering me, I didn't really notice them. They just kinda stay up there ***points to wall***"

We had to hire an extermination company to remove and heat treat the room -- the kind of treatment where you put a heater into a room and seal it and let it get crazy hot so it kills all the bugs -- and then they left us to vacuum the remains. All the bedding was ceremoniously burned, and we even changed the carpet for good measure. All adjoining rooms got heat treated, too.

After that, all rooms were subject to a mandatory inspection at least once a month.

We got rid of all the bugs in one fell swoop...
...I'll never get that image out of my head.

Username: CrazedMagician

Alright, this ones long but I still have nightmares about it.

I worked the night shift at a budget hotel in Idaho. My shift was from 10pm to 6am and usually just consisted of a few late checkins followed by me playing Minecraft for hours.

I get a call at the front desk at about 2am from one of the guests at the end of the hall saying there’s people arguing in the room next to him, so I head down there to check it out and halfway there I catch a whiff of straight shit.

It smells horrible and I hear a woman shouting “Fk you Fk you Fk you” and she’s straight up sobbing. So I knock on the door and ask if everything is ok.

She keeps screaming and crying. By this point other guests were out of their rooms and apparently expecting me to know what to do. So I call 911 and say there’s some fighting or something going on at the hotel. Everybody is very aware of the strong shit smell keep in mind.

Police get there and start banging on the door. The classic “POLICE OPEN THE DOOR” with their guns drawn and pointing at the door. A guy in there keeps saying “uhm, just a minute” but he wasn’t opening the door, we can still hear the girl crying in there.

So the cops have me unlock the door and then they bust in like they’re fcking SWAT. I’m standing awkwardly in the hallway not knowing wtf to do or where to stand, then I just hear one of the cops say “holy shit”. And he was spot on. The overwhelming essence of fecal matter wafted out of the room and through the hallway, consuming all in its path.

Apparently the guy in the room woke up and decided he wanted to have sex with his female roommate, and she wasn’t up for it. So she absolutely shit all over everything in the room. All over the sheets, on the walls, curtains, not even the TV was spared.

Cops arrest them both and head out. I get a hold of the cleaning crew and let them know the situation, they tell me “we’ll take care of it when we come in the morning”.

Mind you it’s like 3am and the ungodly stench of sphincter was holding the hotel hostage. So like any respectable minimum wage employee, I threw a towel around my face, gathered every cleaning supply I could find (as well as plastic knifes from the kitchen for the poop that was already stuck on) and that’s how I spent the rest of my shift.

We ended up closing that room for like a week and threw away pretty much everything in it. I ended up getting a $50 gift card though from my boss because of it though so... worth?

Username: Snapz0ne

I’ve worked night audit at a couple hotels for a few years now, and I’ve got a couple of stories of nastiness left behind in rooms.

The first story happened about a week after I started working night audit. This guy who was staying on our first floor, had decided to go outside to smoke in only a towel. His towel apparently became stuck in the door, and in a genius move, he grabbed the smokers pole and busted out the window to his room. When he climbed in, he cut himself badly enough that he bled all over the room.

The shower curtain, bedding and a couple of pillowcases had to be sent out to be professionally cleaned, and the rest of the room had to be professionally cleaned. The hotel charged him with the cost of the window, the cost of the cleanings, and for every night the room was out of order, which was about a month. During cleanup, one of our houseman got cut by the glass in the window, and had to get treated in case of blood borne disease, and get stitches.

The guest paid for all that too. The cost was around $10k for everything, and he was banned from the property forever. He tried to come in again about a year later with a third party reservation, and our GM personally waited for him and escorted him off the property.

The second story is about a man who we called ‘Huge James’. Huge James is literally the fattest man I have ever seen. He’s pretty tall, and easily at 4-500lbs. In his room, are his wife, his daughters, and himself. The women in the family were all normal size. This family quickly developed a bad reputation with our pizza chains that delivered, because they would order a lot of pizza and never tip the driver.

The drivers would come down and complain to me or other front desk staff about this. It got to the point where the dominos drivers would just give us the pizzas to take up to their room. Huge James and his family never let housekeeping in for about a week, and when they finally were allowed in, there was so much trash from fast food and pizza, that they had begun to stuff it under the beds.

What is worse is that Huge James was physically too big to use the toilet in the room (we have rooms with reinforced toilets, so we absolutely could have accommodated him), so he had defecated in the tub. He then would use our nice white hotel towels to wipe himself, and just leave it on the floor.

Nobody knew about the towels until our laundry lead, Miss Brenda (the sweetest and nicest little woman I know) found them herself. We had to throw the towels away, and we nearly lost Miss Brenda that day as well.

While that was going on in the laundry room, one of our housekeepers was cleaning the room and noticed a towel tucked into the side of one of the beds. She pulled the towel out and a giant dildo came flying out with the towel.

I saw the pictures of it, and end to end, it was almost as wide as the towel it was covered with. In addition to this, there were stains all over the mattress that had soaked through the sheets and onto the mattress.

In the bathroom, the tub wasn’t draining, and when they pulled the stopper mechanism out to try and clear the blockage, a lot of poop came with it, and that’s how we knew they were shoving the poop down the shower drain.

During this time, they had been staying on a third party reservation and making a new reservation every few days. When the new reservation popped up in our system after discovering what they had done to the room, the GM decided to evict them.

Huge James came down and started screaming at the front desk supervisor about how the mess wasn’t his fault and that it was retarded daughter doing all that, and making the messes, and defecating in the tub.

Those were his exact words, and how he talked about his daughter if that helps you understand what kind of a person he really was. Everyone had met his wife and daughters, and they were really nice people, so we didn’t believe him when he made claims that his daughter was the one making the messes.

Huge James drove a lifted Hummer with huge chromed our rims, and the night before his eviction, I jotted down his license plate number in case he tried to pull something before he left (he did). When he found out that he was no longer allowed on the property, he trashed his room and smeared all the sauce packets from fast food and actual food on the walls, the tv, and the windows.

They found food between the mattresses, and the bed frames had been broken. When it was time for him to go, we had police there to escort them off the property.

After they left, all the damage was found in the room, and because I had the license plate number, they were found and charged with vandalism (I think) and we took them to court for the damage to room. It came out in court that it was actually him that was defecating in the tub, and he destroyed the room before they left.

Username: JustBlameJosh

On new years eve, 1997, I was just starting a job as a bell hop for a decent hotel of a large size. I was working the graveyard shift and just so happend to be the only bell hop on duty that night. It was new years eve so I really have no fucking clue as to why I was the only poor bastard scheduled to hop the bell that night. I guess everyone else wanted the night off or something seeing that it was new years eve. I visited 4 rooms that night and I cant say I am very fond of my experiences.

It started around 7 pm when this group of women came in to stay in the honeymoon suite. It seemed a bit odd that they would choose that room, I mean what would a group of beautiful women be doing in the honeymoon suite (probably greasy stuff).

Once they settled in, I get a call at the front desk. Its the women asking me to get them a long list of supplies. Kinda strange stuff if you ask me. I dont remember exactly what they wanted, but thats not the important part.

I get to their room with all of the supplies and on top of that they ask for me to have sex with one of the women. They explained that thwy would wait in the hall, and that they would give me a generous tip if I chose to stay and fuck their friend. Now to be honest I did what they said and probably wouldve done it without the generous tip. It made a nice bonus though.

Now the first room was enjoyable but still rather strange. This next room is where things really start to get wierd. Around 10 I get a call from some party room asking that I bring them ice. No big deal right? So I take the ice up to thier room and when I arrive, im greeted with a big fucking gun pointed in my face.

At this point it is obvious that those drunk bastards gave me the wrong room number. Now im standing accross from a maniac with a gun in my face and a women tied to a chair was sitting to his right. He introduces himself as Sigfried and explains that the women is his wife and that he suspects her of cheating on him with me. N

ow this makes no sense and I get the feeling they were expecting someone else rather than the bellhop. I try to explain, but he is obviously fucked up on some kind of prescription meds and would here no reason. Long story short I get the fuck out of there when I get the chance.

The next room im called to appears to be a family of latinos. Husband, wife, and 2 children, a little boy and his slightly order sister. The father instructed me that he would pay me $300 to keep watch of the children while he and his wife went dancing. The kids were a pain in the ass but I figured 3 big ones was worth it. I was wrong. The kids found a dead hooker under the mattress and a used needle in the night stand. I was dealing with the hooker when the young boy dropped a lit cigarette on the carpet igniting a small fire. This is about the time when the parents came barrling back into the room after their fun night out. The father takes one look at me. Drops his passed out wife and simply asks: "did they mibehave?".

By that time I was fucking pissed. I go to the desk to call the manager and drag her ass over for assistance cause I didnt think I could takee it anymore. While im speaking with her on the phone I get a call from what other than the penthouse.

Fuck me right. In the penthouse stayed a recently successful film director celebrating the release of his new movie. I answer the call and take down a list of materials to be delivered to the penthouse. The list included as follows: a sandwhich, a cutting board, a bucket of ice, and a hatchet as sharp as the devil himself.

When I arrive at the penthouse, I am greeted with great hospitality and they ask that before I leave I do them one last favor.

Normally, considering the night I have had and the shit ive been through I would decline and take my leave. The only thing is that this man osaid he had $1000 reasons I may want to stay. He then goes on to explain that if I cut off his friends pinky finger I could take the money and leave.

All I had to do was wheeled the hatchet. I was the enforcer of a bet between 2 friends. The director bet his brand new sports car that his friend couldn't light his zippo ten times in a row. If his friend failed to light it ten times in a row then I was to cut off his pinky finger. The man failed. I sliced. Grabbed the cash. Left.

I quit that job Never looked back.

Username: Fucked_by_Bears

Ooo, I was a hotel employee for a long time. Here are a few (I'll post additional ones in replies). When I was an 18 year old bellboy at a nice hotel in Boston circa 2001, I had a woman check in one evening who only had one bag, but still asked if I could carry it. I made idle chit chat - where are you from? Etc - and she reciprocated.

She was probably late 20's-early 30's, white, wearing a professional-ish skirt and jacket. It was pleasant, and only stuck out at all to me because it wasn't common business travelers wanted help with one small bag.

I worked the AM the next morning and had a list of rooms that hadn't checked out; hers was on it. 90% of the time it was just that they left without checking out and was pretty normal. Her room was on it and that's what I expected. I got to her room, knocked; nothing. Knocked again, "bellman," nothing. Knock once more: "bellman, I'm coming in."

I opened the door. "Hi, Ms. _____, are you in?" I opened the door maybe a door or so, and it hit something. I pushed it a bit more, and whatever it was moved.
"Ms. _______, is everything alright?" I stuck my head in; she was lying naked on the floor, face down, in front of the door.
I pulled back. "I'm so sorry, Ms. ______, I didn't know you were-" the image caught up with my mind. She was laying there, on the floor, naked, unresponsive.

I pushed the door open a bit and stepped it. She was laying in a pool of blood, which was drying, and was, unsurprisingly, pale. I reached down to to her wrist to feel for a pulse; there was a huge gash down her arm. The other arm had one, too, which she'd tried to tie off with a bedsheed, which trailed behind her and was mostly saturated with blood, so I felt for a pulse in her neck. She was cold, and of course, there was none.

What was I supposed to do? I asked myself. I radioed down to the desk. "Bellman to front desk."
"Front desk, copy."
"Hey, this is ______. Please call 911 and have them come up to room 623 immediately."
"________, what's going on?"
"The guest appears to be dead, over."
🥴😬

The minute and a half or so between then and when security and the GM got up there were such a strange, surreal place in time. I was kneeling next to this woman who I'd spoken to a few hours earlier. She was laying next to me, dead; not even just dead, but exposed, bloodied. I sighed, reached down, and gently smoothed her hair back down from where I'd pushed it aside to take her pulse. I wasn't even freaked out that she was dead, so much as I was just sad.

The paramedics and cops got there, and stared taking pictures, asking me questions. They went over the tapes from the night before; she never left the room, and I was probably lucky that the tape caught her saying goodbye to me from the doorway and closing it herself.

The detective showed me, the GM, and the head of security that it looked like she had drawn a bath, laid down in it and cut herself - the water was bloody and there was a pocket knife in the water - and then had panicked and gotten out. He said this was fairly common, especially with women: the thought that they would simply bleed out gracefully and sink into the water, not only bleeding out but drowning, but that they would often panic when they realized they were bleeding out and try to get help.

The phone had been ripped out at the base, which he guessed she did in advance, to prevent herself from calling for help, and then she tried to tie a tourniquet with the sheet, which was too big, so she tried to make it to the door before she passed out from blood loss and died. He said all these other things were fairly typical for a suicide as well - the planning, the panicking, the last-moment attempt to get help. She had left a piece of paper with her name, SSN, and phone numbers out, but no note or explanation there.

My boss offered me the rest of the day off. I declined, because I needed the money, so they bought me lunch, and then just told me to go home and take a couple days off, that they'd still pay me, which was pretty cool of them. My gf at the time was freaked out and didn't want me to touch her because I'd touched a dead person. After a day or two, pretty much everything went back to normal, though for the rest of my time there, people made fun of me for "the guest appears to be dead, over."

Username: capt_scrummy

Nothing unbelievably WTF, but as an overnight hotel worker it was a steady stream of gross and/or weird.

*One permanent resident, an older woman, who would leave during the day and thus seemed at least somewhat active and capable of using a bathroom normally, would leave large stinky bags of our linens in the hall every day. Eventually curiosity overtook repulsion and I opened up a bag to inspect, to find that she'd daily used our cloths and towels for urine and feces. Later housekeeping confirmed it and told me that they only gave her dirty laundry.

*For a while there were frequent complaints of someone being caught unscrewing peepholes from the outside of doors (who knew you could do that?) and peering in. Every time I went running with my beatin' flashlight (I was the only one working at night and thus security was my responsibility, and I felt personally responsible for everyone's safety), but the guy would always be gone. Clearly, he was a resident who had a hiding place. Eventually I figured out who it was and had him evicted. It was just dumb weightlifter kid who stayed there with his girlfriend.

*There was a woman staying there who reportedly lost her mind in a tour of Iraq. She was so far gone that she really had no way of even getting to her room on her own sometimes. No one warned me, so when a woman was in the lobby talking into the interdimensional portal that is the trash can, I called the cops. After that I'd look up from a book to find her just staring at me, then creeping away.

Over time, she began to follow me through hallways, creeping super-stealthily with military training. That's impressive, actually, considering that she always walked with her knees lifted up to her chest with every step. All day and night she'd walk the halls talking to herself about ghosts or something. At night she'd repeatedly slam her door and scream at the top of her lungs incomprehensibly. A couple of times she had the cops bring people to check her out to see if she was fit for living on her own, like when she called the cops to report a ghost raping her.

The worst thing of all, though, is when she was seen walking around with a butcher knife tucked up into her jacket sleeve, creeping around. Another guest had to talk her into putting the knife down, telling her that the ghosts wouldn't hurt her.

The real clincher, is that even after this incident management wouldn't give her the boot. I told them that I was afraid for my life and the lives of others, but her father paid for her room and that's all that mattered to them. After several weeks she was evicted because a few guests had complained about relatively minor offenses.

*Friggin' pedophile. Young one, like 18 or 19. He was a permanent resident too (all the truly tragic people were) and he seemed to like talking to me. He was obviously a pathological liar, seemingly oblivious to how blatant were his lies, in that little kid sort of way. He did often admit that he was a sex offender, that he missed his girlfriend and couldn't sleep because of terrible nightmares from being forced by the law away from her, but he said she was 16 or 17.

Well, it turned out that, and I was able to confirm this with the power of the internet, that the "girlfriend" was actually a young child, was his little sister, was long-term and regular molestation, and his father, a preacher, was hiding him away from people in a hotel room. Sad, man. In his mugshot on the sex offender website he actually had a big smile.

*Eh, I could keep going for a little bit, but those highlights should suffice. Other than the above it's a lot of human feces in unexpected places, gruesome violence (me finding scenes like from a horror movie, my skinny self chasing down violent criminals), people going batshit on meth, having my life threatened, young girls hooking out of rooms they shared with their parents, etc. Especially working in an extended stay hotel, I got very intimate with the details of lives of people who were on their last resort.

Eh, sorry, I just looked at the title again and realized that you were probably looking for funny sex stories. Things were usually more sad than funny when working in a hotel. There were plenty of sex toys and other kinky things, but far more needles and crack pipes.

Username: anarchetype

Couple stories from when I worked for a Howard Johnson Motel in New Jersey.

A meth head biker and his girlfriend approach the seperation glass at our desk, they want a room for four hours but need lube. Now my hotel accomodated 4 hour rates, or short stays as we called them. I was not going to be able to provide them with lube though.

They must have been fairly high, because the girl started flashing me and they both offered me to come to the room with them. This wasn't something I was interested in so I declined and gave them a room key.

About ten minutes later meth girl is on the phone, still wants me to join them and want any lube I can find, she said she'd even use jelly if we had it (we did). So I delivered jelly likely to be used in meth fueled biker anal intercourse.

A different time we kept receiving calls about parties going on but took awhile to pinpoint the room. We began to notice a pretty steady stream of cars coming in, but not coming to the desk, which can be a bad sign.

Me and the guard got to the room finally and entered to two college aged kids, and a lot of bottles. Nothing really wrong with two people so we asked them to keep it down and started to leave. I realized I should probably check the bathroom.

As I approach the door the girl starts screaming about I can't go in there her friends using the bathroom. I call bullshit and find like 18 people in the bathroom looking like deer in headlights. I tell them to leave or we call the cops.

They don't leave so the cops arrive and line them up outside, and turns out one of the kids is the chief of police's son. They all are told to drive home and the son got into a squad car, turns out they were all highschoolers but the son. Probably shouldn't of all driven home though.

Another time I had to knock on the door of a guy who hadn't checked out yet (after 12) but wouldn't answer the phone. I had to key enter through the balcony and found him dead from pills, a suicide. I left the room quickly and called my boss.

He got there when the cops arrived. The cops went in the room awhile and came out and accused me of taking 500$ the guy said he left in his note. I didn't even know there was a note and hadn't taken any money and I told them that.

They acted like they didn't believe me but went back in the room. My boss tried to tell me if I had the money to give it to them, but I didn't have it so we waited. When they came back out the told me they found the money in his wallet in his pants.

Username: GatorDontPlayThatSht

Can they be NSFW if they all most definitely happened at work? 🤣
God I loved our local motel job.

I think my favorite was just a note left in a guest’s room on our review pad by an old couple. “Room” marked “clean”, “Stay” marked “comfortable”. Then under “Further Comments:” was written,
“Stay was lovely. You have prostitutes hanging out in the parking lot. It’s Obvious”.
Oops. So they noticed that did they?
Oh lord we were in stitches. Definitely kept the note.

And yes - we’d had two female guests who’d stayed a few days and regularly waited every day in the parking lot for their ride - they were picked up buy a guy in a big pickup. We had been discussing the same concern and how to move them along that very day.

Jokes about the appearance of prostitutes doing their tricks in our parking lot had already been percolating (The owner didn’t care who you were. People have a right to stay as long as they aren’t doing something illegal on the property itself or disturbing other guests. The problem was that the activity was ahem -**that**- obvious 😂).

I’ve had sad stories too - our tourist season was pretty normal. But in the off season, our rates would go down, and things would empty out. There was a lot of long-term addicts who’d blow through. We also had long-term guests who stayed in our long-term stays - some had for years. Often, it served somewhat like affordable housing. Rates were affordable. You had basic level cleaning and amenities etc. No kitchens or anything, but these folks weren’t usually in a position to cook for one reason or another.

Anyways - One newer long-term stay had been an alcoholic for years. He was pretty roughed up by life. Always smoking, and that was a big deal breaker, totally had ruined the room - we were going to have to completely re-model when he inevitably got kicked out. I don’t know what he did for cash. He wasn’t that old sadly. One night, I was working the graveyard shift, and he came up about 1am to quietly tell me he just had a seizure.

First one. Laid down with him on the patio while he had another waiting for the EMT’s. (Side note, good god firemen EMT’s are assholes. Is that just my experience?) But they did treat him, and got him up in the ambulance and off to the hospital. Don’t know what ever happened to him. He came back a few weeks later and checked out of his room with a family member. Of course, it took us forever to get his keys back and we eventually had to change the locks because the security camera kept showing his car appearing at strange hours in his old spot.

I think my brother has me beat for stories though.
“...so it’s 11pm, I’m the only one on shift, the man’s clearly in-end stage renal failure, yellow as a banana, his pants are down to his knees, there’s shit, just...fucking...everywhere, he’s stuck in the tub, and I’m trying to help him up, and somehow get his pants back on at the same time.... I get him out...we pack up his stuff, I get him a partial refund - cuz you know - I mean yah it’s trashed, there’s no way we can rent tomorrow, but, what am I gonna do? I’m already kicking out the dying alcoholic who just jumped critical care.

He tells me he’s gonna wait for the bus. Great! Then a bit later, I’m writing the incident report, and recording the room as ‘do not rent’ and I see the cops **again**, this time across the street. Apparently it’s for the *same* guy - he’s now over at the Rite Aid freaking out some employees (cue brother rolling eyes). Guess he tried to go buy a drink.

But get this - it *turns out* he hadn’t exactly “voluntarily” left against medical advice like I’d just assumed an alcoholic wanting a drink would do...no, actually he **escaped** the ER. So oops. That one was my bad. Shouldn’t have rented to him. But you know - I handled it!”

A lot of stories ended with “So Boss, there was a little bit of problem...but it’s totally fine, I completely handled it! And Room 204 is on Do Not Rent”

In all seriousness, people going on a bender/on drugs are usually the scariest of the stories (Or the funniest. Or the saddest. Not much “meh” there)
If there was a motto at that establishment, it would be “putting out daily fires since opening”.

Username: Danceswith_salmon

FUCK WEDDING PARTIES

It was always the same every Saturday in the summer. Check out was by 11am. Because people tend to be slow to leave on weekend mornings, our housekeepers didn't come in til 10 rather than like 9 on weekdays.

About 10am, I'd get the big wave of check outs from Friday night coming down but plenty of folks would hang out til 11. Keep in mind, we were a small, 40 room property. We never had more than 4 housekeepers called for a day. On average, it's 10 rooms a piece, expecting 30 minutes a room, so about 5-6 hours of work which should pace out great as Check-in isnt until 3pm.

But every Saturday, by noon, people would be showing up trying to check in early because "we're with the wedding." Well that's great but check in isn't until 3 and your room isn't ready. "Well the weddings at 2 and I have to change clothes (I had one woman get mad because how dare I expect her to drive all the way here in her wedding clothes and when I looked at her profile she was from about 45 minutes down the highway.)

This would turn every Saturday into chaos. We would still try to get the early folks in if we could. But when 6 different reservations are standing in the lobby trying to check in and housekeepers haven't even touched their room, it would get crazy. The housekeepers would end up jumping from room to room which isn't great for quality.

Guess what, I didn't schedule the wedding for 2 o'clock. And just because you're here for a wedding doesn't make you special. Especially when all of the people checking in today are with your wedding group.

Ugh, that just reminded me of the worst headache wedding. The bride was an alum from the local college. Decided to get married on the same weekend at the all school reunion. I explain to her that policy is to only block half the available rooms we have to any one group. If the block fills and you need more rooms, (assuming we have them) we'd add them to the block.

There were only two hotels in town and we were definitely considered the nicest but we did it that way to be fair to the community. The next town with hotels was 45 minutes away. Well we block out her wedding and for the next week, I'd have to deal with the mother of the bride calling to fill in the block with members of the wedding party (bridesmaids, groomsmen, photographer).

A week later the bride calls to add more rooms to the block. We add ten more (leaving about 10 for the public) and this repeats with the mother calling. Filled the block. Before the bride calls for more rooms, we get a gentleman calling to get rooms for the all school reunion as he's booking for his group. Set him up with 5 or 6 rooms.

Bride calls to add more rooms to the block, let her know I only have 4 or 5 left to offer and she flips out because the gentleman's rooms were supposed to be her rooms and how dare I ruin her wedding (this is all happening like 10 months before the wedding mind you, plenty of time to call the other hotel in town). But fuck me for picking a date you knew would be busy to plan your wedding.

She got all the rooms but the gentleman's and I spent the next 10 months having to turn away folks looking for rooms for the all school reunion.

FUCK WEDDING PARTIES

Username: mybunsarestale

I worked at a Holiday Inn Express about ten years ago, and we had this guy who stayed there most of a week before we banned him from the premises. He was soliciting young men at the local wal-mart to come to the hotel room, where he had hung up one of our sheets, poked a hole in it, and was servicing the guys through the makeshift gloryhole he'd set up. How did we discover this? He called me at the front desk (this was a 50 room hotel, so there was only ever one employee working at a time), and asked me to bring up more towels and sheets.

Towels, okay. People sometimes need more towels. But sheets? What the fuck?

So, I bring up the requisite items, and when he opens the door, that's when I see the sheet hanging up with a hole in it. I asked him if it was one of ours, and he said yes. I let him know he'd have to pay for it, and he said that was fine. I shook my head and left.

I was the guy with the weird shifts in a small hotel, the part time night clerk and part time afternoon clerk. This happened to be the start of a night shift, so it was already like 11:30 pm.

Well, 12:30 or so rolls around, and suddenly this guy comes downstairs and starts chatting with me. The first thing he tells me is that he's part of the cast of Dawson's Creek, and did I like the Mercedes he had been driving.

It got weirder from there. This guy spent 20 minutes trying to convince me that I was gay and trying to get me to come up to his room. Eventually I demurred that I was the manager and I had to man the front desk, which got me a brief respite. He was back later, though, and that's when he told me what was going on up there and asked if I wanted to get my dick sucked or suck some dick.

At that point, I called the absentee hotel owner (he did as little work as possible and couldn't give a shit about the state of his investment) and told him what was going on. From there, it snowballed into him being banned from the hotel. I heard the police were involved too, but I had to go home at 7am.

Anyway, it was weird.

Also, one time some random middle aged black guy on a motorcycle showed up, all dressed in leather and acting the badass, and asked me for a key to someone's room. I couldn't give out a key to someone's room unless they were both listed on the manifest and showed ID, and he did neither.

He proceeded to play the race card, yelling at me that I was giving the black man a hard time, and that if he were white there'd be no problem (Okay, sure, buddy, I love the idea of getting fired for handing out a key without making sure the person getting it is actually supposed to get it).

Eventually I had to threaten to call the cops to get him to leave, since no ID was forthcoming and he wasn't on the guest list anyway. Anyway, that was my first experience with having the race card played personally on me.

Username: [deleted]

I didn't work at a hotel but stayed at a bunch. I used to travel for work. We would be in hotels for 3 nights or more a week, and I did it for several years. The worst off the rails moment we ever had was in Tennessee. We were a traveling inventory company, so there was a lot of us. We would have usually somewhere between 20 - 40+ rooms.

Most of the people that worked at this particular company were poor as shit, and were young. Like mostly early 20's. So they do what you would expect70 or 80 people in their 20's would do. Party, fuck, smoke weed, get drunk.

Well the drug supplier for the crew didn't get any weed before we went out that week. So they were getting drunk instead. Which led to a bunch of rooms getting trashed. Some brothers that were staying in the same room, decided to have their own version of wrestlemania in their room. Another tried to bbq in his sink. Weed guy got some weed for the last night we were there, and brought it up.

I worked a different shift than pretty much everyone else, I set everything up the day before, and they came in the next day. They had all checked out and left me in the room because I didn't get back until 2 or 3 am. I hear a knock at the door, and I ignore it.

Pro tip, they never give you enough time to answer the door. Housekeeping, count to 3 and they are opening the door. If you don't yell out, they will be in there and usually catch you half way to your clothes. Even if you do, they rarely hear you, and come in anyways. They open the door, and are surprised to see me. Can I talk to you ? Sure let me get dressed.

I go to the door and it isn't house keeping. It is the hotel manager and two police. Can we come in? Should have said no, but I knew me and my room mate didn't have anything in there, so I let them. They are like well it looks like you just slept here. Well yeah. What else would I be doing ? Well the hotel is destroyed. What ?

There is a bunch of damage to rooms, and which one of your buddies is dealing ? I had just transferred up to this crew within a month, I went straight to denial. I don't know any of these people. I work a different shift. I barely see anyone.

Well we found half a pound of marijuana under a pillow. I don't know anything about that. Where are your coworkers ? I gave them the address of the store, and the phone number for the manager of the crew. They left, I got my stuff and gtfo.

When I got to the store I asked what was up. One of the admins told me the damage bill was up to 30k. Managers were running around like crazy. I went out to one of our work vans, with the guy I work with, also room mate, to explain what was going on. While we are out there police are walking around to our vans, and writing down plate numbers.

We went to the van drivers and told them I'm not accusing anyone of anything, I don't know your people, but if any of them might have something they don't want found, they better get rid of it. They searched most of the vans, the guy that had left the weed behind had a portable safe. They found it, more weed, cocaine, and a gun. He had been standing around watching them search the van, when someone told him he better bounce.

We eventually saw him a couple of years later, and he did get caught, but not much time.

Username: devoidz

When I was young my mom took my sister and I to visit some family a day’s drive away, it was getting late - mom is insanely frugal and asked a gas station clerk where the very cheapest motel in the area was (time before internet).

We pull up to this strip motel quite a ways off the highway and mom gets a room from the front desk. We drive slowly past the rows of doors looking for ours and come to one without a number. It didn’t have a number because *it was missing the front door.*

Mom goes back to the front desk, I go in with her to use the bathroom, which had a partial dirt floor and was filled with cicadas. ‘Mom, there’s cicadas here too, just like on our tree at home!’ I remember saying when I came out.

She stared at me, clearly questioning her decision to not hightail it out of there but she was exhausted from driving all day and didn’t know the area she was in.

‘Our room doesn’t have a door,’ she tells the desk guy. I remember he was in a wheelchair with two different-sized wheels so he was sitting at a slant.
‘Oh, not that again,’ he says (really).

He gives us another room and when we get there, the bottom 8 inches or so of the door was missing, like someone had taken a saw and just chopped it clean off - so there was a huge gap underneath. Mom - utterly defeated - frowns and stuffs it with towels, and goes to sleep. Sister and I stay up for a bit snacking on some cheerios and kool aid we had with us, and then go to sleep as well.

I wake up to this scratching sound, and see the towels moving under the door. I get kinda scared and shut my eyes, but curiosity gets the best of me, and when I open them there is an opening. I hear the scratching in the room now, at the end of the bed.

I shake my sister awake and keep hearing it, and we work up the courage to turn the light on. For some reason that made sense to my 6-year-old self I was convinced it was a leprechaun, and I wanted to see it.

Sister flips the light on and this big gnarly raccoon is staring at us from the other side of the room, digging through our big baggie of cheerios. We scream, mom yells and flips out of bed but gets her leg tangled in the sheets and falls on the floor.

Raccoon flips his shit, gets disoriented and tries to run but his claws are sliding on the hardwood and he skids towards the bathroom, bag of cheerios goes flying in the air and rains down on us, mom is screaming and trying to get her leg untangled and bumps the edge of the dresser which sends the thermos of kool-aid flying.

Raccoon is screeching like a banshee and is finally bolting towards the door, splattering koolaid like a leaky water balloon and sending soggy cheerio projectiles against the bed and walls, finally escaping back outside.

We slept at a rest stop the rest of the night.

Username: TheBlueSilver

Not a hotel worker, but I'm sure the workers were all WTF over this.

Back story: Me and three friends decided to go to Chicago for Halloween. We all had decent costumes and were crashing parties all around Wrigleyville since it seemed that a decent costume = no problems at these yuppie house parties.

Anyway, after the 5th or six place, my buddy in a Winnie the Pooh costume starts getting a little too wasted and some friends of the homeowner decide to kick his ass out.

He starts screaming obscenities at them and all the other guests before they physically remove him from the house, a huge Pooh bear, flailing all around.

He proceeded to stand in front of the house, slamming the gate closed over and over again, and generally screaming like a drunken idiot. He did this for a few minutes before turning and bolting down the alley next to the house.

After a few seconds we realized he wasn't coming back and went chasing after him. He must have run pretty far, but it was easy to ask people if 'they've seen a huge Pooh run by'.

Anyway, after several blocks the chase went cold and we ended up giving up, pretty drunk ourselves. We crashed a few parties and headed home.

When we awoke he was asleep on the pull out bed and we thought nothing of it. When he woke up a few hours later, he told us that he eventually sobered up (a bit) and he was shoeless, in Boys Town, with no wallet, keys, or phone(no pockets on the Pooh costume).

Furthermore he couldn't remember the name of the hotel. All he could remember was it was on North Michigan avenue. With no money for a cab, he proceeded to walk barefoot, literally 5 miles to North Michigan Avenue.

He arrived at the hotel, couldn't remember my last name so the front desk couldn't help him. He literally went through all of the guest list to find my name. Security ended up letting him into the room, after he described his bags and the layout of the room.

Turns out when the security guard opened the door, he took one look at the two dudes in bed, passed out in makeup and full costume and decided he had enough, so he just let my friend stay even though the room was nothing like he described.

Username: skeezysteev

From the other side of the story, I'm sure I (indirectly) led to a hotel employer finding something (not necessarily a thing, but an action) weird.

Long story I've told before, condensed to give proper background: My mom was a junkie. Unfortunately, my sister and I were quite young and that meant my mother often brought us along on her deals.

One night, her, a dealer, my sister and I were in a car driving towards Houston. The dealer and my mom have an argument, and my mom ends up getting punched in the face and shoved out of the car. He then takes off on one of the most frightening rides ever- *my sister and I were still in the car*. My sister was *only two years old*.

He finally overheard us in the backseat (yes, this shitstain of a human forgot his buyer's kids were in the car) and without a pause, slams on the brakes and orders us to get out. I remember this really fucking well because Houston didn't get a lot of snow, but this happened to be the one day in like 10 years it snowed in Houston, and now, 8 year old me and 2 year old sister were in a car, *alone with a violent drug dealer*, so him demanding we get out of the car was great. I'd have rather died in the snow than by a violent dealer.

I pick up my sister and we start walking in the direction my mom was pushed out at. Miraculously (sort of), we run into her. But at this point, she's taken her drugs and is starting to lose her mind. We pass a hotel on the way back to her, so I suggest we go to the hotel. Mom agrees, but every step we take toward that hotel is inversely proportional to the amount of sanity she's holding on to.

Somehow, she managed to talk to the desk clerk straight faced. Seeing no obvious, immediate problems, he gives her a room key and my mom, sister and I go to our room. As soon as mom opens the door and flips the switch- **"HOLY FUCK!! THERE'S RATS EVERYWHERE!**

My sister and I are dumbfounded. There's nothing in this room except what should be in a hotel room. But my mother insisted. The room was crawling with rats. Rats biting through the walls, coming out from under the blankets, burrowing through the ceiling, jumping into our luggage and swimming out of the toilet- despite the obvious fact she's hallucinating, she can *not* be convinced that it's all in her head.

So I beg her to lie down and sleep it off, but she must've sincerely believed there was a plethora of rats in this room which made her even more uppity.

She goes to the desk clerk and immediately starts screaming, "WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING TELL ME THIS PLACE WAS INFESTED WITH RATS? THEY'RE EVERYWHERE?" Confused, the desk clerk comes to the room and confirms there are no rats. My mom is having none of this- "Look, you fucker, there's five of them right there INSIDE THE TV!" The TV was off. No rats were on or in it. The desk clerk threatens to call the police, my mom says, "Good, call them (bad idea) and let THEM see all these filthy fucking vermin."

To make a long story short, mom got arrested, desk clerk asked if we had any family nearby we could contact (thankfully, we did, because I don't think I could've handled CPS or a foster family) and we waited with the desk clerk while my grandmother came from Katy to pick us up.

So, if a guy who was managing a hotel one random snowy night on the outskirts of Houston in roughly 1989 reads this and remembers dealing with the drugged out rat lady- that was my mom. Sorry.

Username: deathbydanny

I have to premise this story by saying it involves a trans woman showing male parts. People in new York used to speak and act differently towards trans women so the story I'm telling reflects that. Please don't cancel me.

I worked room service at the standard highline in new York city. One night I get a call from the suite theres some Russian dude who needs 2 bottles of vodka brought to the room. That's gold for room service. $400 a bottle plus 18% auto frat plus whatever he tips.

So I set up the service wheel it up and when the dude opens the door he has like a Scarface mountain of coke and like 7 naked strippers fucking PARTYING. Only dude there.

He hitsme with $100 and is like "thanks bro". Boobs. Money. Awesome shift.

I end my shift at like 12:00 and have to be back the next day to cover for a friend in the am 7:00 - 3:00. Next day I'm doing the Sunday breakfast rush and my buddy who rarely gets off the phone to run food comes downstairs all flustered. He was an art student and had sort of weird vibes at times would get flustered.

He goes "fucking gnarly tranny in that room tried to show me her dick!". And in like "lol". This is NYC in 2010 much different time. So then the phone rings again, same room. They want bagel and lox - full spread.

I'm like "dude I'll run it up" because I genuinely think the idea of a naked trans person trying to flash a Weiner would be funny. I wanna see this. Sounds like a good dose of NYC Sunday debauchery.

I run the food up knock on the door. It's the Russian guy from last night. Different room. "YO Brouuu" he waves me in, I chat him up.

I get in the room and start scanning for a trans woman to flash their Weiner. I only see 6 full grown fat men and one woman - gorgeous with fake tits lying in bed. And im thinking like "holy shit that is a very convincing trans woman"
What the fuck was Mike talking about?

Russian goes "what do you think of that?!" And I'm like "uhh awesome.' suddenly uncomfortable I'm like I wanna get outta here. A guy in the bed that goes "CHECK THIS OUT" and he reaches across his own fat gut past the woman in bed with gorgeous boobs and pulls the blanket back - like rips it back displaying her lower body.

Suddenly I'm freaked out - not cool with this - don't want to see a ln erect penis with this gorgeous trans woman, not sure how I would feel about it and it's like 9am on a Sunday. Too much for a young man to question at 9am suddenly.

I peek over and there is nothing but a standard issue vagina. There was no trans person my co worker was talking about. Just one woman, naked. And six fat men.

Russian looks at me and goes "You want a turn with that?". I realize I'm in the middle of a 9am gangbang with a bagel in my hands. I suddenly feel covered in filth. Like a layer of slieme is permeating my very soul. Standing in a room with 6 fat slobs and a knockout sex worker in some pre or post coital respite.

"Nah I'm good.". Russian gives me $20. I go downstairs. I tell Mike "bro I'm gonna go take a shower".

I went to the locker room and took the one and only shower I've ever had at work.

Still feel slimy talking about it.
Good tipper though.

Username: Timotron

So there it was, the summer of '01. I'd just applied and gotten a job workign for a local motel in a one horse town in Red Neck, USA. The storms had been fierce in my little corner of the world and roofs had been damaged, but bad.

The motel was full of displaced people and wandering troupes of migrant roofers drifting from town to town to offer their cheap inferior wares. It was my luck or misfortune, to be the man who started the day Mexico invaded our town.

Migrant workers were everywhere. They'd leave looking fresh and unenthused and return late in the evenings dirty, smelly, and exhausted. It was easy to feel empathy for their plight. The bad weather had moved on and it was hot and humid.

Well, one day, I was counting the men coming in as I was wont to do and I realized taht there were only fourteen men but they had fifteen two bed bedrooms. After talking with the maids, I learned that one of the rooms had a do not disturb sign on the knob. The maid service isn't allowed in the room as long as that is on the door. It'd been on the door for two weeks.

Out of curiosity, I went by the room and placed my ear against the door. No sound in there. I figured they were stowing their gear in that room, but I knocked, violating the motels policy concerning the do not disturb policy and I heard ... chickens.

When the workers returned that evening, I stopped their boss and told him that one of the maids had heard the sound of chickens coming from the room with the do not disturb sign. I reminded him about the motels policy concerning no pets.

He said he'd check it out and get back to me after he took a shower. Well, the shift progressed and the guy never came down. I went to lunch and when I came back, I decided to go see the guy before he had a chance to go to bed and ask him about the chicken noises.

The rooms were empty. They had waited until I went to lunch and then checked out and left. Now, I'm just dying to know what the hell had made them decide to leave in such haste. I grab the master key of the locks and head up to the fifteenth room with the do not disturb sign.

Knock, then opent he door. The room is covered in chicken shit. There are blankets over the windows, feathers and chicken shit on everything. Its on the curtains, the blankets, floor, bed, bathroom sink, television. You name it, it was covered in shit.

After the motel sued the man, it came out that sometimes the Mexican laborers would accept part of their pay from the farms they were reroofing in the form of fighting roosters.

Fearful that someone would steal their roosters from their trucks, they rented a fifteenth room and covered the windows to keep it dark so the roosters wouldnt' crow and left them in there why they went to work. I don't know how many roosters they had, but there must have been a lot because they were only there for two weeks and that room was a mess.

Chicken shit. That is my worst, weirdest thing ever discovered.

Username: Koyoteelaughter

Long reply, but needed to set the scenario.

Oh boy, so many answers for this one. I'm going to go with a guest we had a couple of years back, Let's call him Mr D.

So Mr D originally checked in with a 4 day booking, but when check out time came he was down in the reception extending his booking for another night. He did this for about two weeks. Always paid cash. He always had the Do Not Disturb sign on his door, and everytime a housekeeper knocked on his door, this guy would always SCREAM at them to not bother him. Therefore for his entire stay, his room didn't get cleaned or anything. He never even asked for new bedsheets!

Whenever he came down to extend his stay, he STANK. Like he smelt like a damn sewer mixed with a landfill. I doubt he so much as showered once during his stay. The reason we didn't kick him out earlier is because other than bad hygiene, we didn't have a good enough reason to kick him out. He never swore at us (even when he yelled at HK to leave him alone) and he was quiet and didn't set off any smoke alarms.

Anyway, the day came when we were pretty much fully booked and, let's face it, thoroughly creeped out by this dude. Mr D, came down as usual, about an hour before check out time. My DM that day tells him that we are fully booked and that he will be unable to stay here.

He kind of stared at her with a 'glazed over' look, so she repeated the sentence again. When my DM said he had an hour to leave, he just kind of grunted, nodded and shuffled off. We saw him leave about 20mins later on the camera by the front door.

HK were told that Mr D had vacated the building and we were all pretty worried at what state the room was in. We were right to be concerned. About half an hour later, one of the housekeepers came down to the front desk and she looked ill. She told the DM and myself that she refused to do this room, we asked what the issue was and her response was simply "go look" before she turned and walked off.
The room was... something else.

There was blood, vomit and excrement smeared everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE. Walls, carpet, bed, curtains, towels, mirrors, bathtub, toilet, sink. You name it, it was covered. Literally looked like a horror movie scene, and needless to say, it stank. The bed frame was broken down the middle, curtains ripped etc. It was like a small tornado had devastated the room, even the carpeting had been ripped up in places.

Mr D had also decided to urinate in the bins and in one corner of carpet in the room. There was also a collection of seemingly used needles scattered around the bed, just to top it all off. The DM and I just looked at eachother and went back into the hallway, closing the door behind us. No wonder the housekeeper had looked ill, my DM (who had been in the business for years) looked pretty green around the gills.

We ended up having to get a special team in to clean and sanitise the room. It had to be completely refurbed, so it was set off for months. We called the police and gave them pictures of everything and gave them Mr D's details. A few officers came in that same day and took more pics and took the needles and stuff.

I don't know what happened after that to be honest. I hope they caught up with Mr D and stuck him in a rehab centre or something. I don't even know if the hotel ever got compensated for the trashed room or special clean up crew. Ah well. As long as I never have to see him again, I'm good. He completely creeped me out.

Username: beth_bop_beep

Not my proudest moment, but I clogged up a sink and toilet once.

I was going on vacation, and was going to have a 13 hour layover in Frankfurt. I figured, This will be fun! I'll find luggage storage and explore the city. Maybe catch a museum, walk through beautiful fall leaves, and get lunch and some apple wine!

But...I got sick on my first flight. I had tried to take sleeping pills, but just couldn't fall asleep. I've taken these pills every day for a decade. But never on a plane before. I knew if you couldn't fall asleep within the 20 minutes it takes to activate, if you forced yourself (or were forced) to stay awake, it would actually have the opposite effect.

So I'm sitting on the plane, wide fucking awake, with my heart racing. When I get off, I think "I need to find a day rate hotel near the airport, take a nap, before I figure out next steps." I started to become feverish. I manage to get shuttled to a day-rate hotel in the middle of nowhere near the airport. I was the only person there. I check in and ask where I could get lunch after a nap. I was informed that there was nothing nearby, and the restaurant was closing in 5 minutes and wouldn't open until I should likely need to check out.

So even though I feel sick, I order something which I thought was a hamburger but was actually something "From Hamburg". I also got some apple wine since it was looking like I wasn't going to be going out exploring now.

It was disgusting. I don't know why I tried to eat it. Defeated, and sick, I went to my room. Instantly the room started to spin. I feel so hot I strip off all my clothes.

And then, I realize I have a major problem. I feel the urge to have explosive diarrhea and explosive projectile vomit. The trash can was mesh. So my only option was to sit on the shitter, and vomit into the small low sink right next to the toilet. When I thought this was over, I took a shower and laid down. Then the room would spin again, and it would start all over. FOR HOURS.

For hours this cycle continued. How long had I been here? Had I missed my flight? Is it the next day yet? If I hadn't missed my flight, what time do I need to leave to make it? Will they even let me on the plane in the state I'm in?

Finally, hours later the room isn't spinning again. I survey the damage. A slightly damp bed from me laying on the duvet after my showers. Toilet clogged. Sink...oh fuck the sink. I try to unclog the toilet, but with no tools (or poop knife) its futile. But I try to save the sink. With no cups or tools in the room, I cup my vomit in my hands and scope it out to try to put some in the toilet. But there is too much. I try to make some go down the shower...but I quickly realize this is a worse plan.

After another hour of trying to make things right...I simply take another shower and put clothes on. I had around $300 euro on me that I had expected to use to buy souvenirs for family from this Frankfurt daytrip. I left the entire thing on the desk with a note of "I'm so sorry."

I then check out, and say "I'm sorry..I was sick in the room." To the bewildered 2 staff in the hotel. I then asked for the shuttle to take me to the airport. I see a poor woman start to head to my room right as I board the shuttle.

I did manage to feel 100% better by the time I went through security. But I'm still very ashamed of what the poor cleaning people probably found (and smelled) from that room.

Username: jadeoracle

20+ years ago, I worked third shift at a hotel that everyone's heard of, but it was a franchise owned by this horrible family. They were just extra mean to everyone for no reason. Just shit people.

Anyways, I don't know if it's like this everywhere, but I was empowered to basically charge as much as I could get out of people, with the bottom being some amount that fluctuated. But at the same time, we had a deal with the nearby large-ish strip club that their dancers could come after their shift and get a room for a flat rate that was way less than the actual price ever got.

And right before my shift ended, it was my job to count it all up and audit the day and see how we did 😇

So anyways, I realized pretty quickly that those girls were often accompanied by men that ALWAYS paid cash. And they were always kinda jumpy and in a bit of a rush to get in the room for some reason?

Anyways. I used random amounts, but essentially this is what happened 5, 6, 7... 15, 16 times a night sometimes:

Dancer and male platonic friend pull up to the window, platonic friend comes to the window, asking how much... I loudly say something like, "OH, YOU GUYS COMING FROM [DIRTY NAME] STRIP CLUB?" this makes the guy want to get away from me as quickly as possible, and thus very agreeable.

(whether he responds or not)

"Okay well that'll be ($60, $70, $80+... whatever I think I can get from this filthy jon), will that be cash?" (Of course it will)

He gives me the cash, I go to the register, punch it in for x-15 or x-20 or whatever, where "X" is the amount I told this idiot. Do a quick calculation for what he thinks his change should be, bring it to him along with his paperwork, and this is the moment of highest risk...

His paperwork says the price I put in the system, which is considerably less than what he thinks he paid. So I have to kinda try to cover it with my finger as I slide it over, and just hope he's feeling awkward enough standing there that he's just gonna sign and jump back in the car without inspecting anything.

And when you pick them right, they always do!

So after that happens a few times a night, I've kept a running tally in my phone (I'm using all random totals ending in random cents) and just let it all accumulate in the register all night. That way nothing ever looked like anything for the camera that was behind me looking down on me and the front desk and register.

So I figured out what I'd made that night, then when I had all the cash laid out across the desk during the nightly audit, I would just make myself a pile and do just one swipe with my sleeve, and I was ripping those assholes off for like $200+ some nights, plus $9/hr!

I pulled this scam for like a year, just loving life, until one day one of my friends did the math and made me realize it had been thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars and definitely way past whatever made it a terrible felony and I was playing with real fire.

My system was perfect, but I never did it again after that day, and made it less than a week before the paranoia made me quit 🙄

But yeah, fuck everyone involved, except for the sex workers that I basically partnered with for a year, all love for them! ✊

Username: LowerBackPain_Prod

We had a regular who would come in once or twice a month with different escorts and order about $200 worth of booze through room service 5 minutes before they closed (always tipped well but still annoying), then would rent the same suite once a year with his wife for their anniversary.

Every year we hosted a local drag queen convention where everyone would fully dress up and have all the props and stuff.

The room where the event itself was held always stunk like powdered makeup for a full day afterwards, but the rooms of the attendees were where the real damage was; dildos, KY jelly, wigs, makeup, you name it. I'm not one to judge for lifestyle choices, and it was their own room anyways so really not my place to judge, just surprising to walk into when you're just trying to deliver some chicken fingers.

We had two shady-looking possibly-prostitutes get a room on a credit card we heavily suspected was stolen but were unable to prove it. Sent the card info to police but we had to continue to serve/host them until we could prove it was stolen.

Had a guy rent a room with an escort for a long weekend, first night the escort calls down about 20 minutes before room service closed to order 4 beers and a pizza. It was a nice hotel and we really priced our booze high so that order would have been probably about $65.

When I get up there the guy was passed the fuck out HARD, spread eagle on the bed. The escort is lit out of her mind and seemed like she had forgotten she had ordered.

Charged the food to his room and tipped an extra $100. Next day the guy puked all over the room and had to be moved, not sure what his final total for room charges was by the end but it had to have been crazy.

We would have homeless people float into our conference rooms and steal handfuls of sugar/sweetners for our coffee stations then run away.

A million and one instances of food quality being sacrificed for the kitchen to be able to save money. From serving past-date food, skimping on serving sizes, subbing for cheaper ingredients from what's listed on the menu, it never seemed to end.

And ***everyone*** was banging. Everyone. We all drank pretty much every shift, at work and after it. And everyone was sleeping with each other, including on the job/at work. If you are eating at a hotel, do not assume it is clean.

I'm sure there are more that I'm not remembering right now, it was a crazy time. Loved it, but it was not a healthy environment to grow as a person aha.

Username: LikeARollingRock

Do motels count? As a kid, long long ago, I worked at my grandparents motel every summer. It was in a shady area and I don't mean there were trees. It had an hourly and weekly rate. I have many stories of prostitutes, drug dealers, welfare scams, and amazingly bad parenting, but the two most disturbing are both deaths.

One was just tragic, a young woman checked in and pre paid for a week. After three days one of the neighboring rooms complained about a smell. We called the rooms next door and asked if they noticed it. Young woman did not answer, room on other side of her also complained of smell.

This was not unusual as a lot of the guests worked wierd hours or were drunk or high and non-responsive, but she had not looked the type. One of the reasons she stuck out was that she looked more put together than a lot of the guests.

Eventually my grandmother and I went to the young woman's room as it seemed to be the epicenter of the smell and she was not answering her phone after multiple tries.

My grandmother knocked a few times and we could hear the TV, but still no answer. After announcing herself my grandmother opened the door with the master key.

The smell of blood with a hint of decay hit me when she opened the door. Coming in from outside, the doors all opened on a central motor court, I could only see that the woman was laying on the bed on her back.

Once my eyes adjusted I could see the blood all over the sheets. A whole person's worth apparently. My grandmother sent me to get one of the maids at that point and told me to go back to the office.

My grandmother later explained what happened. That is how I learned about coat hanger abortions while still in elementary school.

The other death was rather uneventful, but I still have a keepsake. Long term residences died or disappeared relatively often. They were mostly alcoholics or drug addicts and we always went through the room before reporting the death. One of them died while I was working and we discovered him dead in a chair when we went to check on late rent.

We found the usual stuff, cloths, drugs, booze, but there was also this giant dictionary on the coffee table. I don't know why, but I claimed the dictionary and still have it almost 30 years later.

It is one of the unabridged ones with Spanish German and French as well. Like one you would see on a pedestal at the library. I just refer to it as the dead guy dictionary.

Username: utukxul