I recently stayed at a hotel, where conference organisers had booked me into a wheelchair-accessible room. It was round the back of the building down a lane-wide ramp with no sides, handrails, or lighting. Even in a wheelchair, I wouldn’t have been able to get to or from it unless someone was there to push me.

The hotel’s answer was that there was a dedicated disabled parking bay nearby so I could just drive to the front of the building, hope to find suitable parking, and walk across the busy carpark every time I wanted to go to breakfast, reception, the coffee shop, meetings or anywhere.

When I pointed out I didn’t have a car and would need to call a taxi each way to take me from my room to reception and back, I got the obligatory “deer in the headlights” look.

It’s not really the hotel’s fault. Despite it being completely unsuitable for me, who can walk (sort of) and would be on my own without a car most of the time, I believe the room was quite spacious and well-equipped.

The requirement I had asked for was accessible washing and toilet facilities, so I ended up with a smaller and more basic (but still accessible) room, but at least I could make my own way around.

They were also good enough to provide a proper ergonomic computer chair so I could sit in my room and work.

Watching the cogs whirring was fun; I don’t think it had ever occurred to the managers that without a car, or at the very least a fairly meaty powered chair, there was no safe way to go to and from their premium “accessible” rooms.

I work at the front desk of a hotel. The hotel is pretty upscale and sits on a marina. A happy couple checked in the night before their wedding, and I just knew they’d be a handful, but I still seriously underestimated them.

On the first night (wedding eve), they kept calling for maintenance because they couldn’t get the fireplace to turn on or the jets in the tub to work. (It turned out that the trick was to press “on”.) Then, the complaints of loud sex start rolling in, followed by complaints of heated arguing.

We all survived night one. The wedding day was here. They got married on a boat with mainly the groom’s family on board. The bride got so drunk that they literally ditched her a** at the marina. One of the dock hands found her, eighties dress and all, wandering the boat slips.

We sent security to help her, but they couldn’t find her. While they were searching, she stumbled into the lobby bare-footed, losing her s***, grabbing every guest who had the misfortune of walking by, and sobbing to them. She nearly ruined a guest’s Versace suit crying on his arm (unsolicited and very awkwardly). Luckily, he was a good sport.

Before security could make it back, the groom showed up. They proceed to have a public argument and make-up (with plenty of PDA) for all to see.

Security finally rescued me and got them to their room. The last of the fun was more noise complaints of loud sex and arguing. Security pretty much had to set up camp on their floor.

I’m sure they’re still happily married to this day.

In November, I attended a convention in Tucson, Arizona. Back in October, just before the cutoff date, I reserved two nights at the hotel and gave the code for the convention rate. They didn’t need a card number for the reservation, which I thought was odd, but oh, well.

I went up to the desk during the convention and told the clerk I had a reservation.

Clerk: “I don’t see anything here.”

Then, he poked around for a minute.

Clerk: “Here it is. The tenth and eleventh of October, not November.”

Me: “What? I specifically gave the TUSCON50 code to get the cheaper rate.”

Clerk: “Yup, I see that here, and at the convention rate. I don’t know what they were thinking.”

Luckily, they were only about a third filled, even with the convention, so I got a room — even at the convention rate.

I work in a hotel. Our lowest floor is still about a meter and a half from the ground, and each of our outside rooms has a balcony rail. A guest has decided he wants to unload his motorcycle from his truck and leave the ramp down, so (I’m assuming) he can ride the bike up when he is done.

The guest who is staying in that room ordered room service earlier in the day and decided to leave the food uncovered and the balcony doors open, and they later went to the hotel pool/spa to relax. 

Upon returning, they calmly come up to us at reception, and say:

Guest: “There’s a bear in the room.”

Puzzled, we quietly approached the room and slowly opened the door. Lo and behold, there was indeed a bear eating room service and making a mess of my afternoon.

We called Parks Canada to deal with it. 

The guest was not charged a cleaning fee.

There’s only been one time in my entire life when contacting the hotel directly, despite booking through a third-party site, actually worked in my favor. And that was only because it also worked in the hotel’s favor.

Last summer, I spent about a week in Helsinki, Finland — let’s say August 10 through 16. I knew I was flying out of Minneapolis-St. Paul on August 10, so it seemed reasonable.

But, silly me, I forgot that because of the time change, I was taking off from Minnesota on the 10th but would actually be landing in Helsinki around noon on August 11 and therefore didn’t need the room for the night of the 10th.

I emailed the hotel — still a few weeks before my flight — and explained the issue. I would actually be checking in on August 11 and still checking out on August 16. I was more than happy to still pay for the room for the night of the 10th, as long as it would be ready for me by check-in time on the 11th.

I KNOW the hotel sold the room for the 10th, so you’re welcome, [Helsinki Hotel], for the free double-booking! I hope you enjoyed that unexpected extra profit.