I was staying in a trendy hotel in L.A. on an extended business trip. One night, the people in the room next to me had some friends over. It was a pretty loud party, and it went on for quite a while. I knocked on their door at one point, but they couldn’t hear me. I had to get up early the next day, so I just toughed it out and went to sleep. I was awakened by the phone ringing. It was the front desk. “If you plan to have guests over in the future, you need to kindly inform the front desk,” the woman said tersely. “What?” I said groggily. “We have received numerous complaints about your gathering tonight. If we have one more call, we may be forced to ask you to leave.” As half-asleep as I was, my outrage caused me to snap to a coherent state. “It’s not me. It’s the neighbors. I have been here by myself all night.” She was stern and skeptical. I invited her to come up to the hallway and listen for herself. She said she would send someone up to investigate. “You don’t believe me?” I said. “Do you hear anything in the background right now?” She wished me a curt “good night” and hung up the phone. I went to the door and watched out the peephole. A few minutes later, a hotel employee walked down the hall. He stopped and listened. The noise was clearly coming from the room next to mine. But just to be sure, he pounded on BOTH our doors and yelled, “Quiet down!” I was incredulous. The next day I had a long talk with the manager, and he graciously comped me the last two nights of my stay.

-- Melissa D., Redmond, WA