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Far be it from me to take away from the great column written by the 2NOTBrokeGirls about getting laid in hotels. I mean, first and foremost, more power to ANYONE who’s getting laid; you’ve figured out how to get someone to sleep with you, and really, isn’t that what life is all about? Furthermore, you’ve gotten someone to sleep with you in a room you’re renting for $189 a night, plus taxes and fees. Hopefully, you’re not paying for the sex on top of that. That’s pretty spectacular. It’s even better if your company pays for it, you business trip slammer, you.
Take it from a former hotel employee, though. Having sex in hotels isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’ve certainly done it. Who hasn’t? Maybe not the Pope, but come on, that’s not fair. He doesn’t have sex anywhere.
Disclaimer: I’m not talking about any places where I’ve worked. Any hotel I worked in was clean, pristine, and perfect.
Double Disclaimer: Mom, please stop reading this article, because your little boychik talks about having sexual intercourse.
Elevator Foreplay = Being Escorted Out By Security
Seriously, every square inch of every public space of every hotel I’ve ever been in is covered in security cameras that overly-anal night managers and bored security guards monitor. They’re always itching to kick someone out, and let’s be honest here–who’s staying at a Sheraton in Des Moines in the middle of the week? Old people and families with kids, that’s who. All it takes is for you to engage in some heavy petting in front of one ornery geriatric for you to have the night staff of the hotel all up in your business. Remember: If you get kicked out of a hotel, you still have to pay for the night, so keep that shit in your room.
Neutral Zone = Not Having The Proper Equipment
What would Batman be without his utility belt, or Iron Man without his suit? Just a couple of incredibly good looking rich dudes with big beautiful eyes and mouths that could talk you into anything–I mean, what?
Oh, right. Anyway, I can absolutely see the point of how hot it is to have the anonymity of doin’ it doggy style in “someone else’s room,” but there’s a kicker. What if you or your bang buddy forgot to bring condoms? In your drawer at home, you’ve got a veritable armory of tools at your disposal. You have condoms in every shape, size, and color of the rainbow, and not to mention, you probably have lube, sex toys, neckties, ball gags, handcuffs, whips, chains, nipple clamps, a car battery, etc. Sure, maybe your boo carries one or two with him or her, but what if you want to have a marathon bangarang sesh? What if your friend brought another friend and you’re about to be the luckiest girl on Earth? If you open the drawer next to your bed in the hotel room, all you’re going to find is the Book of Mormon, and that doesn’t really do much for the ol’ boomstick.
Getting what you need involves either a very awkward run to Walgreens or going downstairs to the “marketplace” that every chain hotel has next to its front desk, which sells everything from candy to drinks to medicine to, yes, even condoms. They’re all at least double what you’d pay at the grocery store or drugstore, too. Ever paid $15 for a pack of three condoms? The STANDARD VARIETY Trojans? It’s almost not even worth the sex for that much money. At least hookers might have a few condoms on them.
Soundproofing? What Soundproofing?
Girl, what hotels are YOU staying at? I’ve stayed at hotels all over the country and even a few around the world, and even the nicest ones have paper-thin walls. You can hear just about everything: kids playing and yelling, TVs from the other rooms, other people having sex. I’ve woken up to the sound of people having sex at Caesar’s Palace in Atlantic City, and at that point, it’s like, “Fuck it, might as well join in” and attempt to have a loud sex contest with the people in the room next to you.
New Surfaces, Same Germs
Dude, I don’t know if you know this, but hotels are fucking disgusting. Even the nicest hotels on the planet with the best housekeeping staffs cannot possibly keep up with the sheer amount of people who stay in even one of their rooms year round, let alone all of them. There are different people in these rooms every few days, and some rooms get turned over once a day, every day. Huge hotels have about 2,000 rooms, and smaller, local hotels have as many as 200. How do small housekeeping staffs manage all of those rooms?
Well, for starters, some hotels rarely, if ever, wash the comforter. They NEVER wash those disgusting top sheets, and while they do change the sheets between guests, there are always rumors that if the bed doesn’t look like it was slept in, SOME hotels might not change the sheets. This was lampooned by this Hampton Inn advertisement a few years back. Also, most allergens and germs seep into the mattresses unless the mattresses have super-impervious mattress covers.
Housekeeping at most hotels simply doesn’t have the time to wipe down every surface. Telephones, lightswitches, tables, those random, always-too-firm-to-sleep-in easy chairs they put in each room: it’s enough to drive a hypochondriac like myself crazy. Read this if you want to have nightmares.
Also, if you’re leaving whipped cream and chocolate sauce stains all over the place for housekeeping to clean up, you’re kind of a jerk. If they think you’re a jerk, they’ll tell the front desk to charge you extra fees for extra cleaning services. Who’s got money for that? Not me.
Have You SEEN Room Service Prices?
I don’t care how hungry I am, I’m not ordering a $20 cheeseburger plus tax and tip. Unless I’m on a cruise, and admittedly, free room service is 90 percent of the reason I’d go on one, because that kicks ass, I’d rather just bite the bullet and drive down to the closest McDonald’s.
Most hotels these days don’t have room service. Most local hotels have a very self-sustaining model with very few employees: a front desk staff, a manager, security, and housekeeping. Most hotels also don’t have full restaurants or kitchens. Usually, a hotel has a menu in the back of its “information book” from some local restaurant it has a deal with–and 65 percent of the time, it’s Papa John’s. Do yourself a favor and eat somewhere else. PJ’s garlic sauce after sex makes you feel like shit.
The bottom line is that hotel sex, like everything else, has a seedy underbelly that you don’t want to see. Yes, it’s hot, it’s different, and, like “The Love Boat,” it’s exciting and new. But, if for some reason you like to use a black light in your lovemaking, leave it at home. Also, if you can manage to get a condom large enough to cover your entire body, use that, too, unless you want to get rashes in places you DEFINITELY don’t want them.
Respond
@JayTasShow
@FireJayTas
Don’t care, had sex
This column is where boners go to die.
I’d like to give a shout out to that awesome screen shot from What’s Up Doc.
Yeah I’ve got to second the (lack of) soundproofing part. I came out of a blackout drunk sleep in Toronto at 4 AM because it sounded like a herd of elephants was gangbanging in the next room over. This lasted around 45 minutes plus however long they were going before I woke up. The next day, my friend charitably described them as a couple where the woman was a “whale stuffed into a cocktail dress” and the guy looked like a “fat Mongo in a suit.”
That next day at work was rough.
This is garbage.
Love this! Although, we are scarred for life 🙂
Please don’t ever write another article again, you are so negative it’s ridiculous. It’s also pretty obvious you aren’t getting laid
I’m sorry, but as someone who bones the writer on the reg, I take offense. Say what you will about him, but I can’t have nobody besmirching *my* sex life.
Hotel sex is pretty spectacular, but I have to say that nothing beats the comfort of your own bed and post-coital sushi leftovers. With extra spicy mayo.
Words hurt, man..
Says the second lead in the least funny comic strip in the world behind “Family Circus.”
Not to sound like a germaphobe, but I like knowing what’s previously happened on the bed I’m having sex on. Hotel maids have no idea when burning sheets is the most appropriate cleaning solution.
“What if you or your bang buddy forgot to bring condoms?” You’ve made it this far, and you’re both probably drunk, so I’m going to say:
Nobody wants YOU breeding, HappyAndHomeless.
I gladly concede that as fact, but that doesn’t mean I’m taking preventative measures other than changing my Google voice number after a tryst.
God damn do I salute you, you swarthy bastard.