Naked Sleepwalkers

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I've been in the hospitality industry for 16 years. During this time I've experienced many strange and awkward occurrences involving hotel guests. The story above reminded me of a situation that I had long forgotten.

While an Assistant Manager at a hotel in Minneapolis, I was working an audit shift. Around 1 a.m. a gentleman walked up to the front desk asking for a key for his room. I quickly made 2 observations: 1) The gentleman was drunk. I noticed the stale stinch of alcohol 10 feet away. His face was puffy and his eyes were beyond bloodshot. 2) He wasn't wearing a shirt, which wasn't a big deal, but as I approached the front desk I noticed the only thing he was wearing were tighty-whitey underwear that was anything but tight. The elastic band was stretched out as if used as a sling-shot for bowling balls. It seemed the only thing preventing the man's underwear from falling to his sock-less feet was will-power.

Wanting to quickly get this gentleman away from the front desk and to his room I asked for his room number. In a slurred voice he replied " I don't know". His drunken state was affecting his memory. I then asked him his name. Again, he replied "I don't know".

What should I do? What room did this gentleman belong to? The hotel had 204 rooms. That night occupancy was over 90%...there were too many options to start knocking on doors. I tried to jog the gentleman's memory by asking where he lived. I thought I could look through registration cards for his hometown. He said he lived at T.J.'s Tavern. This establishment was located a block from the hotel. I assumed this was where the gentleman became inebriated and was the last place he could remember. I called the establishment as asked if anyone was missing a 40-ish drunk man wearing stretched out white underwear. The bartender who answered the phone laughed and quickly hung up the phone.

I had two options. In 1 hour there was a scheduled shuttle run to the airport. In 45 minutes guests would be entering the lobby waiting to be taken to the airport. Seeing a nearly naked gentleman that early in the morning would not be the greatest way to start out one's day. I figured I had 45 minutes to find the room the gentleman belonged to or I could call the local authorities and ask them to remove the naked gentleman from the property.

After giving the gentleman a sheet to cover himself up with and directing him to the lobby sofa to sit on I decided to wait 15 minutes to call the police. Having police cars with lights flashing is never a good site to see at any hotel. Nothing breeds confidence in hotel guests than seeing two officers guide a drunk man wearing stretched out underwear out the front doors of a hotel to the open back doors of a squad car.

I got lucky 15 minutes later. As I reached for the phone to dial the non-emergency number of the police a bewildered looking woman wearing a pink housecoat approached the front desk. She explained that she was missing her husband and wanted to know if I had seen him. I pointed to the lobby sofa to where the gentleman had fallen asleep snoring away. The woman walked to the sofa and knocked her husband on the head. He awoke with a startled "Ouch!". He stood up letting the sheet drop to the floor. With both of his hands holding up his underwear he followed his wife down the hall to their room.

I wish this story would have stayed lost in the recesses of my mind.