PANTS ON A PLANE

I've been in many hotels and hostels during my almost 10 years travelling around the globe, so I thought for my last night of travel before I flew home, I'd stay at the Jumbo Hotel in Stockholm. I had to fly out of there anyway and why not stay in a jumbo jet that's been converted into a hotel. The idea seemed wild and it indeed was wild. I booked my stay a few weeks in advance to ensure that I could get in because there are only 27 rooms. 

My flight from Bergen landed a few minutes late and I hurried to collect my bag from the bag drop before dashing out to the bus that takes you to the front of the hotel. The entire 5-minute ride through the airport and down the little road to the hotel I was filled with bubbles of excitement; it was as if someone had injected champagne into my bloodstream. The bus slows to a halt and I hop off, Pork Chop riding high, holding onto my shoulder strap and make my way in the almost complete darkness to the lift of the hotel. It takes one person at a time and you have to hold the call button down the entire time the lift is in use, going down or up. Frustrated and not wanting to wait that long, I sling my bag over my shoulder, nearly knocking Pork Chop through a loop and bounce up the steps to the door. It's the oddest sensation ever. There's a neat little cafe/bar in the front of the plane and crammed in between the cafe and the stairs to the pilot suite room is a reception desk. It strongly reminds me of a description of the Weasely's house in Harry Potter for some reason. 

A man checks me in, informs me of the breakfast and shuttle times and wishes me a pleasant stay. I head down the hall to 731 and slip the card into the slot. It takes two tries but I'm finally inside the room. It's so cool. Bunkbeds again. Memories of Oslo hit me hard and I'm stood there with the door open, thinking about the overcast city. I collect my thoughts and my rucksack that I've dropped and walk into the room. I love the 70's orange vibe from the curtains. I slip into my jimjams and fluff up the pillows stretching out to relax after a long day or airport hijinx. My phone cord slips between the bed and the wall so I reach to get it and my hand collides with something soft and black. I had a what the fuck moment and for a second, didn't want to know what I'd touched; but alas, curiosity got the better of me so I reached down again and pulled out a pair of black men's underpants. Someone has left their fucking pants here...and it's the day after Valentine's day. The word "NOPE" echoes through me and Pork Chop and I scramble to the top bunch to sleep. It's safe up there; there's not enough space to have sex up here. I'm too tired to deal with the leftover pants, so I tuck in, hoping I find no more unmentionables hidden between the bed and the wall or in the sheets. Thankfully, I always travel with some hand sanitiser so scrub my hand and hope to fuck there were no fluids on those pants. 

I wake up early; haunted by the pants incident and the notion of having to go home and deal with the slobs that surround me. My mood lowers and my anxiety swirls, making me want to vomit. I feel my stomach contents sliding up my throat and I can't hold it in. Thankfully there's a bin in the room. I look at my watch and decide it's best to get to the airport a bit early rather than later. Afterall, the shuttle bus could be delayed or crash or explode or simply just not show up and I'd have to walk to the terminal I need. I quickly get ready, grab Pork Chop and my back and slither down the hall to reception. I wait a few minutes before a bright-faced blonde woman pops through the door. "Hihi!"
"Hi! Room 371 checking out." "Did you have a pleasant stay?" "Oh, yes everything was great except um, I noticed that someone had left their pants in the hotel room." She tilts her head. "Uh, yeah, I noticed that someone had left their underpants tucked between the bed and the wall. It's a pair of men's boxer shorts." I try not to laugh as a mixture of disgust, horror and shame cloud her features. I crack into a smile. "That is completely unacceptable!" "I mean, I found it funny but I thought you'd really want to know." "We're going to look into this and I'll have word with the cleaners." She doesn't offer a refund or anything, which really doesn't bother me since I'm laughing at the idea someone lost their pants in a hotel room. Seriously. Who the fuck loses their underpants? Maybe they were in a hurry? The woman apologies twice more and calls the lift for me. I thank her and she reminds me to keep the button held down. I almost make a joke about the underpants being held down but I hold my tongue and wave goodbye as I step into the lift and leave the hotel.

All of this begs the question. Would I stay there again for a quick overnight? If it was underpants free then yes. They're lucky that I found this hilarious and wasn't a snooty guest about things. I'm surprised I didn't get pissed off after all the room was like £100 a night.