My Hostel Horror Story: When my roommate shit in our dorm room

My Hostel Horror Story: When my roommate shit in our dorm room -

Over the years, I have had some bad hostel roommate. They have rude, messy, dirty, smelly, drunk, loud and everything in between. Two girls were so bad in New Zealand, it inspired me to write a post on etiquette Hostel. But through it all, I always stay in hostels. I love hostels for its convivial social atmosphere. Hotels seem to sterile when compared with the energy and camaraderie of hostels. When I'm older, set in my ways more and have become lighter sleep, I often thought to myself: "Why I stay in dorms I'm so over it?." But then I book another night because I do not want to pay for a private room specially. (Although I do get out of hostels and when I need a break from work in hotels).

But that feeling changed when I had the shittiest roommate ever. Hostel dorms and I are now on an indefinite break

Let me explain why (and warn you now that I will not eat this reading.):

It all started on a beautiful morning Barcelona Monday in September. I enjoyed a nice sleep, one of my typical surreal dream dreams - dreams that I have to be a moment Batman and escape Aliens in the old clippers into another. Awakened by a loud knocking from my superpowers to fight bad guys, I looked at my phone: 07:30. The hammering away from the door. Groggy from sleep, I woke up, had wanted to hear someone else the noise instead of me, got out of bed and opened the door. My Brazilian dorm mate standing in his towel said: "I'm sorry" and rushed into the room.

This is the last event rudeness on a long list of weekend. I was with my friend Kiersten, and we had stopped with this Brazilian and his friend in a dorm for four nights. You snored, turned off the lights on at night, came home drunk, spoke loudly, suggested marriage with Kiersten and were very chaotic. We were glad to check on that day out of the room.

to leave after the Brazilian, I went to my bed back, and just as I was about to lie down, I caught a whiff of something hateful. "What's that smell? Why It Works smell like shit?", I said to myself. I looked everywhere and could not place it. I had not pooped me in my sleep. added only as half asleep, to my confusion.

"What's going on?"

I was perplexed.

Then I smelled my hand.

"Why is my hand smell like shit?", I thought.

I was now even more confused. I got back up and turned on the lights in the dorm.

And that's when I noticed it. I had shit on my hand.

Because it was shit on the door handle.

And Poop way back to the bed of the great Brazilian.

shocked I stared my hand and turned to him. Catching my eye, he looked at me and said, "I just in, the age I just in !!!." He played dumb

Now I understood why he was so early in the morning showers -. He had shit, touched the doorknob on the way to the bathroom (in what I can only hope was a drunken accident, because that would do that on purpose?!) And locked out of the room to leave me as unhappy roommates, to open the door. One can only imagine the reaction (eardrum-shattering shrieks) when one of the girls in the dorm had been the unfortunate.

"I just in, dude," was all he ever said to me, trying to pretend that he was not clearly the cause of this chaos.

"You shit yourself in bed and then grabbed the door handle! This is fucking disgusting! And just rude!" I swore appalled and disgusted by this whole event.

I ran to the bathroom and germ-free the crap out of my hand (pun intended). I scrubbed, which as the bone to feel. Grabbing a roll of toilet paper, I went back to the room, noticed a dirty mattress outside the room, and opened the door.

The path of shit on the bed was gone, but the button inner door was not clean. "It was not me," the Brazilian guy said, trying to prove his innocence, despite cleaning the scene of his crime caught in the act. Disgusted, I cleaned the doorknob me all my remaining hand with sanitizer and toilet paper.

I went back and washed my hands again, and then again, and then once more for good measure.

when I went back into the room, I looked into the dorm next door, when the door was wide open. Not a bed missing. In my dorm the Brazilian had fallen on a mattress in a drunken sleep. To this day, I do not know where the mattress was in the hall. My roommate had managed to somehow find a clean mattress.

Back in my freshly cleaned room, I lay back on my bed and tried to sleep a little more.

Kiersten, who was in the dorm above me has, believe me when I told her in the morning, but a missed Poop to see this story later spot on the floor and a brown hand print on my dorm curtain (which I grabbed innocent before I knew what was on my hand and tore my bed after I did), she freaked out and exclaimed "thank God, we are checking out today."

When we celebrated the hostel that day I left a taxi.

"The W Hotel," I said.

When I walked into the cabin, I could not be happier in a hotel from a hostel move. A shit-free future awaited me.

P.S. I naming not the hostel because it is a really good, and I had a great time there. This could happened to anyone in any home in the world.

P.P.S. There were curtains on the bunk beds, so that people would not wake up, and the light came back in the room from the badly shaded window, so I was not worried about waking someone.

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