We owned a small motel in central Minnesota for three years.
One evening, a youngish man hobbled into the office. There was a medical boot on his left leg. We checked him in, turned on the “No Vacancy” sign and went to bed.
Morning brought the usual work. I unlocked the door of the young man’s room and nearly threw up from the stench. He had killed a six-pack of beer, tried at some point to use the toilet. He missed. There was a huge, stinking, reeking circle of urine in the carpet.
I ventured into the bathroom and was startled to see the medical boot upside down in the waste basket.
I hope he made it home.
Just Writing! 
Well, that’s mysterious. Alien abduction, almost certainly
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🙂
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I don’t quite know what to make of that. Did he leave his boot behind in frustration do you think? Or had he er filled his boots as well?
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We’ll never know, Sandra. It was just one of the many strange and sometimes funny things that happen when you own a small motel. This one wasn’t funny. We had to pull up the carpeting and underlayment, cut out a piece of the wood flooring. The stench was horrible. It was a very hot night, and apparently he hadn’t use the air conditioning nor opened a window. Disgusting.
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After downing a six-pack, he probably thought he could fly. 😉
His sweet dreams, your nightmare.
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It was a nightmare, indeed. Just ugly.
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Charming guest! I almost hope his foot is still bothering him!
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Somehow I don’t think much of anything bothered him 🙂
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Dear Linda,
EEEEEEW! So sorry to read that this graphically stinky story is a true one. Well written, but ugh.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Ugh, indeed. It was pretty nasty walking into that hot, closed-up room and finding such a reeking mess!
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It’s true, heck, I hope you sent him a bill.
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The info he gave us at registration turned out to be false. I don’t know what he was running from, but he was definitely not a good guy.
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The moral of this tale is; don’t let Hoblers stay in your hotel. Clearly he was a disturbed young man.
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The joys of owning a hotel 🙂
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Oh my goodness, how dreadful! Hopalong Nastily!
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Keith, I missed your comment until just now. Yes, it was dreadful, but I LOVE the name you created for him 🙂
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I just read in the comments that this is a true story. Oh no! I’m so sorry. I can’t say I would want to run a motel/hotel. I’ve heard horror stories, now yours. Well written story though!
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Yes, it really happened. One of the more unpleasant memories.
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Genre, realism, anyone? Written descriptively enough to make me want to gag just reading about it, Linda! I imagine such encounters with the seamier side of life was not as rare as you would have liked it to be.
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Often, there was a laugh to soften the seamy stuff. Like the time some girls decided to use the bushes at the north end of the motel to relieve their bursting bladders. Terry went out with a very bright lamp and flushed them out–pardon the pun 🙂 We laughed ourselves sick at the screaming and yelling as they tried to pull up their britches and run at the same time. We christened that area “The Motoilet.”
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Cheeky, coming and going! 😂
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it looks the boot was just a ruse and she fell for it. 🙂
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You’re a much more charitable person than me to hope he made it home OK. I would have hoped he got hit by a truck 😉
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🙂
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Ugh! That sounds nasty.
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It was. No doubt about it!
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Having spent a lot of time in a soup kitchen, I know he must be a real hard luck story. Unfortunately they are too difficult for just anyone to be able to handle well
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Ugh, I could smell it! Great story.
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The smell was horrible. You would NOT want to have been there!
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