Into the Brian Rix zone
I hate travelling on business, especially when I have to stay in shit hotels. I detest the anonymous rooms where you know the last person that stayed there wasn't enjoying themself either. Those places build up a patina of despair that mean you have to go out. So, I was sent to a London Premier Inn for the night. On arriving in my room, I realised I had to get out, and spent a pleasant evening hanging round the pubs of Putney. Home time came, and I went back to the hotel bar for a nightcap, where I spent far too long in the company of fellow travellers drinking Stella. Bad move. I eventually headed back to my room, despite the pleas of one of my fellow drinkers who wanted us to go out and find some 'girls'. I don't know what he intended to do, but if I'd have found a girl that night I'd have vomited in her lap and asked her to put me to bed.

Back in my room, I fell asleep, only to wake in the early hours bursting for a piss and thoroughly disorientated. I stumbled out of bed, and into toilet, shutting the door behind me. Imagine my surprise when I found myself bollock naked in the hotel corridor. After a few minutes of futile door-testing, I realised I was locked out. I wandered down the corridor, and the need to piss became too much so I pissed in a pot plant.( I hope no-one saw me). Which I then realised would be the ideal cover for my shameful nakedness.

Picking up the pissy pot plant, and holding it in front of me, I made my way to reception, by way of a glass walkway across the car park. I hope no-one saw me.

Arriving in reception, I was greeted with cries of "Sir, you're naked!" I growled at the receptionist a bit, and got a key off him, before scuttling back to my room through the glass walkway like a naked crayfish. I hope no-one saw me. I checked out before breakfast.
(Valentine_Sprake immanentising the eschaton since 1983, Thu 27 Jan 2011, 23:58, 3 replies)

Nice!
A mate of mine did exactly the same thing, except there was no one at reception. The cleaner found him naked in her cupboard the next morning.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 8:47, closed)

My brother did it too.
Except that daft cunt was stone cold sober.

He did have his boxers on, by way of mitigation. He still had to go down to reception and ask for a key though.
( Not Pineapple anymore, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 8:59, closed)

I can vouch
for the unpleasantness of that glass walkway.

It is fully responsible for me being sick in the flowebed out the front after staying there the night after a friends wedding.

Carrying my bag through that fucking greenhouse of a corridor to checkout was the last straw for my poor hungover stomach that day.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 16:39, closed)