There’s an unwritten contract between hotels and guests. We agree not to set the drapes on fire. They agree to provide rooms that don’t reek of tequila or harbor bedbugs.

But sometimes, through no one’s fault, things don’t quite work out that way.

When something goes majorly wrong during your hotel stay, the hotel owes you more than just an apology. They owe you freebies. To get them, you’ll need to follow these four key steps:

1. Be realistic. Freebies? Yes. Free room? No.
2. Keep a detailed log.
3. Negotiate by phone—it’s less awkward.
4. Talk a lot about your “feelings”.

Six years ago my husband Rich and I left our 2-year-old daughter with my Mom and went to San Francisco overnight. Although this is not relevant to the story, I was obscenely pregnant at the time, and had a sinus infection.

We exhausted ourselves running around all day like tourists (I waddled), and returned to our four-star hotel around 9:00p.m.

Eager to beach myself on the bed, I donned my pajamas, peeled back the covers, and found a freshly-laundered pair of somebody else’s thong underpants static-clinging to the sheet.

Was I skeeved? You bet your travel-sized deodorant I was. But I was psyched too, because now I was holding a royal flush.

I immediately phoned the front desk (Rob, 9:15p.m.). To his credit Rob managed to apologize and dispatch a housekeeper (Rosa, 9:25p.m.) without laughing out loud. I was very nice to Rosa because 1) she has an unpleasant job, and 2) judging from the opera length rubber gloves she wore, she was pretty skeeved herself.

Once the thong had been removed, I called Rob again (9:31p.m.).

“Rob? This is Mrs. Pearson in room 335.” Across the room, Rich rolled his eyes. “Can you please make a note of tonight’s problem in my reservation?”

Notice I did not ask to speak to the manager. That would have been premature. Now it was time to rack up some incidental charges.

I ordered up some snacks from the late-night dining menu, caught a movie, and generally made myself at home. The next morning I called my Mom and had a long chat about how things were going. Then I treated myself to a room service breakfast of eggs benedict and a bowl of berries. Then I called the manager.

Rich could not bear to be a part of my scheme, so he took his chicken self off to the fitness center. That was okay with me because it cost money too.

I called downstairs and was transferred to the manager.

MANAGER: How can I help you?

ME: This is Mrs. Pearson in room 335. With whom am I speaking please?

MANAGER: This is Charles.

ME: I don’t know if you’re aware of this Charles, but last night at 9:10 I found a pair of thong underpants in my bed. They weren’t mine.

CHARLES: What!!??

ME: I talked to Rob about it at 9:15 about it, and again at 9:31. I feel surprised and disappointed that there’s no record of those conversations.

CHARLES: (bluffing) Oh yes, now I see it.

ME: Do you know Rosa? In housekeeping?

CHARLES: Uh, yes (bluffing again).

ME: Rosa was very professional. Even though she removed the thong underpants just ten minutes later at 9:25, I still felt…violated. Have you ever found thong underpants in a hotel bed Charles?

CHARLES: Uh, no.

ME: Well it’s very upsetting. I felt very upset. Also, I’m pregnant.

CHARLES: Oh.

ME: Isn’t there anything you can do to make me feel better about my stay here?

As it turned out, there was. Once Charles had recovered from the shock, he apologized profusely. Then he took it all off: the parking, the room service, the phone calls, the gym charge, and the movie—about $125 in all.

After that, I felt just fine.

***

Here are some family friendly San Francisco hotels.  To our knowledge, they’re totally thong-free.

Argonaut Hotel
Columbus Motor Inn
Marriott Courtyard Downtown

Recent posts by this author

• My Narcoleptic Husband
• What We're Reading. Where We're Writing.
• Tea Tasting in Chinatown
• Best Book Lights for Travel
• Holiday Theater for Families? It's Santastic!