Hostile Hostel Mixup | The Dreamweaver

On a short visit to a European city, my wife and I decided to stay overnight at a cheap hostel rather than spending money on more expensive hotel and use the money we saved to dine out at a five-star restaurant.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, I was informed that jackets were required after four p.m. so I went back to the hostel to get my blazer.

As I went to open the door to my room, someone on the inside quickly pushed against the door as I was trying to open I.

Startled and shocked, I began to shout at the intruder saying I was calling the police.

I tried a few more times to push my way into the room to no avail.

Just then, realizing there was really nothing of value in the room, I decided to go downstairs and inform the front desk clerk of the break in.

The desk clerk said there was nothing he could do and advised me to call the police.

I went back upstairs to see if perhaps the intruder had left, but the door was still being held shut by the person inside.

I walked to the end of the hall and down a flight of stairs to the floor below where I came upon a room with the door open where I noticed a red telephone on the bed.

I went into the room and just then an Indian woman wearing a colorful sari asked if she could help me.

I apologized for entering her room so abruptly and told her my room was being robbed.

Just then, the woman’s husband entered and she told her husband about my predicament and he encouraged me to call the police.

I dialed the emergency number and while I was waiting for an operator, I noticed the room number on the Indian couple’s door began with the number two, signifying the room was on the second floor.

It immediately occurred to me that my room number also began with the number two and I suddenly realized that I had just walked down a flight of stairs from the room I thought was mine when in fact, I had been trying to get into a room on the third, rather than the second floor where my room was located.

It turned out I was trying to get into the wrong room on the wrong floor and as I was too ashamed to reveal my mistake to the Indian couple, I thanked them for letting me use their phone and told them the police were on their way.

I walked around the corner and down the hall to my room and opened the door to see that no one had been inside, confirming what I had suspected, that I had simply, and stupidly, gone to the wrong room.

Then I woke up.

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