Starkers in reception
I used to go to these Smiths-themed nights at the Star & Garter in Manchester - a chance for a few tunes and a few beers. I used to stay in one of those budget hotels on Porland Street. One evening, I rolled in at about 2am, knackered and a wee bit worse for wear. I got in the room, stripped off, and went to bed. I don't know how long I'd been asleep when i heard a huge scream in the corridor. I jumped up, stuck my head round the door - I could see nothing - I craned a little further out to see if I could see some poor girl getting attacked, and then *click* - the door shut behind me, leaving me starkers in the corridor, no means of getting back in. I just had to brazen it out. I walked down to reception, said to the lady behind the desk "Please may I have another card, I am locked out of my room". With a look that said she'd seen and heard this scenario a thousand times before, she gave me another keycard. It was at that point a massively pissed up party of Welsh Rugby players returned from a refreshing night out, and laughed at my nakedness. I slunk out sheepishly in the daylight.
(barst Rdli Hakkis 4eva in r hartz, Fri 9 Aug 2013, 19:12, Reply)