Many years ago, my family went on vacation in Las Vegas. I think I was about 25 at the time. We stayed at the Imperial Hotel.
That hotel is weird. Room numbers are 5 digits long, reflecting not only the floor that they're on but also the elevator number that they're closest to. When you check in they need to give you a map, because the hallways are very maze-like.
At the time, I usually slept in the nude, but since I was sharing a room with my dad (my brother paid for his own private room), I decided to sleep in my underpants. As I got in bed, I realized that my underpants were ripped near the crotch. I decided it didn't matter, so I went to sleep in them anyway.
In the middle of the night, I got up to use the restroom. The room was pitch black, but that doesn't faze me; even at home, I'm used to walking to the restroom in the dark, to avoid waking anybody else up. I closed the restroom door, then turned on the light when it wouldn't wake my dad.
After I was done on the toilet, I flushed, then waited; I didn't want the noise to wake my brother. (I wasn't in the room with my brother, but I was half-asleep so I forgot that.) then I turned off the light, opened the door, and walked towards where my bed would have been if I was home. I bumped into a wall.
Half-realizing my mistake, I turned to the left. The bedroom door was there, but when I tried to open it, the door stopped. That's because the chain was on the door to ensure privacy. I remember being confused, because my bedroom door doesn't have a chain. But somehow I managed to open the chain, then I tried again. This time the door opened. I remember being surprised that the light was on. Blinking in the bright light, I walked through the door, moving towards the light switch.
Of course, there was no light switch. I continued moving down the hallway, looking for the light switch, but all I saw was more doors. I was getting more confused as I went; why were there so many doors? As I walked, I heard a door click as it automatically closed.
I came fully awake at that exact moment. I was standing in the hallway of the Oriental Hotel, wearing nothing but ripped underpants! Quickly, I turned around to run back to my room. But which room was mine? Every door had a 5-digit number on it. For the life of me, I couldn't remember which room was mine.
I walked up to the door I thought was probably mine. If I was right, all I had to do was knock loud enough to wake my dad. But what if I was wrong? Someone would answer the door, see me standing there in my underpants, and call security. Whatever happened next was sure to be bad!
I remembered reading an article in the Los Angeles Times, once, about this very situation. Apparently it happens more often than anyone (who didn't work in a hotel at night) would believe. The article said NOT to wander down to the registration desk, as you're likely to be seen by a lot of people. The article wasn't even talking about Las Vegas; surely with a 24-hour casino downstairs, it would be even worse. The article said that every floor would have a house phone, usually next to the elevators, where you could phone for help.
So, I started walking, looking for a house phone. (I wasn't wearing my glasses, but I could see well enough when I got close to things.) I don't know how long I walked, but I passed at least 3 elevators and didn't see a house phone. I think that the. Oriental doesn't (or at least, didn't at the time) have house phones in the hallways.
Finally, I came to another elevator, and decided to give up on house phones. I pushed the "down" button. Immediately I heard one of the elevators start to move.
Only then did it dawn on me that I wouldn't know if the elevator was occupied until it was wide open. I might catch a huge group of women on their way to the casino! With that in mind, I ducked behind a soda vending machine, just as the elevator "dinged". I heard the doors open up, but I didn't hear any voices. I decided to get on the elevator, but I wasn't quick enough; the doors started closing, and the elevator moved away.
There was nothing I could do about it; if I stayed close enough to get on the elevator, but the car was occupied, I was going to get caught. I pushed the button again. After a while, it "dinged" again. At that moment, I remembered that my underpants were ripped! I cupped my hands over my crotch as the doors opened.
The elevator was not occupied! With relief, I got on. I moved one hand away from my crotch so that I could press the "1" button. The doors closed and the car started moving.
I almost let go of my crotch, but then I remembered that some elevators have cameras in them. I remembered that some hotel hallways do, too; maybe someone had already been watching me! If so, there was nothing I could do about it, so I tried to forget it.
I heard the "ding" again, and the elevator slowed and then stopped. But we weren't at the first floor yet! The doors opened, and a man & woman, at least 20 years older than me, was standing in front of me. Either they didn't notice how I was dressed at first, or they decided to ignore it, because they got on the elevator and pressed "1". The doors closed, we started moving, and THEN they looked at me. The woman grabbed the man's shoulder and took a step away from me.
"Hello," I said, "I got locked out. Do you know where a house phone is?" I kept one hand on my crotch the whole time.
This seemed to be the right thing to say, because both of them, especially the woman, immediately relaxed. Presumably they know knew that I wasn't planning to rape anybody. "No idea," the woman said. The man said some sort of small-talk, something like "I guess you're having a bad night."
Finally we got to the first floor. The couple got off and walked away quickly. I stepped off too and tried to look around.
I still didn't have my glasses in, but I could see that we were in an elevator lobby in some part of the casino. We weren't even close to the area where we first took an elevator up to our room, nor were we near the registration desk. I could see some live-game tables nearby, but they weren't currently in use. However, I could hear typical casino sounds not far away. I stood in the elevator lobby for a moment, trying to figure out which way to go.
I heard someone talking to me. A small Japanese man holding a vacuum cleaner was preparing to go to work. He was obviously a custodian. He asked me what was happening. I told him I was locked out of my room. He didn't seem to understand. Slowly I realized that he didn't speak much English. I said "registration" and he seemed to understand me, but he didn't point in any direction. Instead, he half-said, half-gestured for me to wait in the elevator. He put his keys in a keyhole in the elevator's button panel; I wasn't sure, but I figured he had set the elevator to stay where it was. Then he walked away, again signaling me to wait.
I waited for 3 hours (obviously not, but that's what it felt like). I was still standing there in my underpants. Finally I decided that the custodian had forgotten all about me. I started to walk towards the casino sounds, but at that instant he came back. "No no no," he said, so I got back in the elevator.
A couple of minutes a security guard came by. The custodian pointed to her; apparently he had summoned her. "What happened to you?" She asked.
"I'm locked out of my room," I said, still holding my crotch with one hand. "I need help getting back to it."
"You weren't attacked?" She asked.
"No," I started to explain, "I got up to..."
"There's something else going on," she said. "You're going to have to wait a minute." She picked up a walkie-talkie and said something into it, then ran away. The custodian shrugged.
A minute or two later, the elevator doors suddenly closed and the elevator moved up. Obviously the custodian had not turned it off after all! I knew that someone else was about to see me in my underpants! Eventually the elevator stopped. The doors opened and two people got on; a boy that was even younger than me (possibly he was legal age, 21) and a young, very cute girl that I doubt was 18 yet. The boy was carrying a casino bucket of coins. Both of them smirked, but especially the boy. They pressed the button for 1. Neither of them talked to me.
After a few seconds, I felt something hit the back of my butt. The boy was smirking even more. He whispered something to his girlfriend, then he reached into the bucket, pulled out a nickel, and threw it at my head. He continued throwing coins at me, in my stomach and shoulder and knees, all the way down. It wasn't hard enough to hurt very much, but it was very annoying. I tried to catch them with my free hand, but mostly I missed.
When the elevator got back to the first floor, the custodian had a relieved look on his face. Once again, he signaled for me to wait. The boy threw a few more nickels at me, and then he finally gave up and left.
I guess I'm not very bright. Weeks later, while thinking about what had happened, I realized that the boy had been trying to get me to move the hand that had been covering my crotch! To this day, I wonder what would have happened if I exposed myself to his girl.
Finally, the security guard came back. "You need to get back to your room?" She asked.
"Yes," I said, and I told her my room number.
"What's your name?" She asked. I told her. She picked up her walkie-talkie. "I need a room number," she said, and she told someone my name. They gave her the correct room number; I wasn't even close!
"Follow me", she said, and we went upstairs. We wended through the hallways for a bit, and then she knocked on my room's door. My dad answered very quickly. "I was worried about you!" He said.
In the room, I noticed that the sun was just starting to come up. I didn't know what time it was when I got locked out, but it was at least 2 hours ago, maybe 4-5. Right now, some people were waking up to start their day; if I had been there much longer, hundreds of people would have seen me!
As I told this story, I included a lot of details and a lot of thoughts that went through my head. Some people might assume that it's fiction; I wouldn't blame you, because I probably would have thought so, if I was reading it. But it's a true story, really.
(If I ever wrote fiction like this, then I would have been nude, as I really did used to do in real life. Or else, the boy would have gotten me to let go of my crotch, and the girl would have pulled my underpants down and stolen them. But that didn't happen.)