We’ll Take Our Chances With The Murderer

I run the audit shift a few days a week at a 135-room, semi-fancy, extended-stay hotel. I’ve been at this location for a little over a year, and oh, boy, the stories I have.

It was a pretty quiet night. All my auditors know the type — almost suspiciously quiet, especially for a Saturday night. I wasn’t complaining, though. Three in the morning rolled around, I’d already run my audit, printed off my paperwork, and done my cleaning, and I was BORED. Just as I was internally wishing someone would come down with a dog for me to pet or asking for towels, the phone rang.

I gave my spiel, sickeningly cheerily for it being 3:00 am.

Me: “Thanks for calling the front desk. This is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

The man on the other end of the line was whispering, and FRANTIC.

Guest: “Hi, I’m in room… S***… Can you look it up?! It’s [Guest’s Last Name].”

Me: “Yes, sir, I see you’re in room 138, from the caller ID. What’s going on?”

Guest: “I don’t know! You need to call the police or something! Someone is screaming in the room to the left of me! I think someone might be getting murdered!”

Me: “Okay, sir, I’ll check it out! Thanks so much.”

I hung up before he could say anything else, snagged my keys and cell phone, threw the office door closed, and absolutely BOLTED down the hallway in that direction. No murder was happening on my watch!

The room he was talking about was, of course, on the complete opposite side of the building. As I was literally sprinting down the hallway, I pulled up and called the local police, on my cell phone, which you aren’t reallllly supposed to do. I told them that I wasn’t sure what was going on, but relaying what the first guest told me, I’d be a lot more comfortable if they could send an officer out, just in case, please. The dispatcher said that they’d send someone out, they were two minutes away, and I should call back with any updates. I thanked her and hung up, just as I was finally getting to the door.

I knocked, hard, three times. And I waited and listened. I heard some shuffling, and maybe some grunting, but no screaming, and no one opened the door. I tried again, and still no answer. “F***,” I thought. “Please don’t let someone have gotten murdered already.”

The police would be pulling up any second, so I headed back to the front desk to let them in. (If I HAD heard screaming, I probably would have gone in myself, but I didn’t want to be face to face with a potential killer without any backup.)

I let the police in and gave a brief rundown of the situation as we headed back down the halls.

We reached the door and listened for a second, hearing the same movement as before, but still no screaming. The police knocked.

Officer: “Hello? Local police, please open up.”

And he did, but just the smallest crack. He was a big dude, he was very sweaty, and he was only wearing underwear. My heart was racing. I imagined him cracking the door to prevent us from seeing the carnage, and being mostly naked because there was blood on his clothes or something.

The police chatted with him for a moment, asking if everything was okay because we’d had complaints of screaming, asking if he was the only one in the room, etc. The guest answered all questions without argument, albeit a little out of breath. They asked if they could check the room, and he obliged and opened the door. He was the only one in the room, just like he said. No blood to be found.

Officer: “Thank you for your patience. Could you have been making the noises, yelling or screaming? The other guest is very concerned.”

Guest #2: “Yes, it was me. I’m sorry. I was, in fact, fighting for my life… on the toilet.”

He had some spicy diarrhea, I suppose.

Y’all, I have never been more embarrassed in my life. I must have apologized to him — and the police — at least fifty times. I offered him some Pepto Bismol, complementary, from our market, and he accepted. I sent the police on their way, delivered the Pepto, apologized again, and head back to the desk with my tail between my legs.

Luckily, the guest was super cool about it, and so apologetic to ME?! I feel so bad. He’s with us for two more months.