Honeymoon Horror Stories, Let's Hear 'Em

Illustration for article titled Honeymoon Horror Stories, Let's Hear 'Em

A friend recently told me about his honeymoon, which he described as utter basura. You see, he and his newlywedded wife stayed at a B&B—and things got awkward. If you've ever stayed in a B&B, you probably know exactly what that means: They can be so lovely, but they tend not to be the most, well, private places you could stay while on vacation. That can make staying at a B&B uncomfortable for any couple but for a honeymooning couple? You can't see me right now, because I'm hiding under my bed dying of secondhand embarrassment.


In a stroke of perfect timing, this week Jezebel launched its newest addition to the family, Flygirl, a Jennifer Lopez fanfic subblog.

Which makes this a great time to ask about your honeymoon horror stories! We want to hear it all: Nightmarish airport stories, tales of hotels so grim they make the Bates Motel look charming by comparison, the time your next balcony neighbor turned his outdoor showerhead on, pointed it over the wall connecting the two spaces and flooded your balcony while you sat out there reading the newest Philippa Gregory novel.

That last one was me. It was really something! But I bet you can top that story, which is why we'll meet in the proverbial lobby to swap the best of your tales on Thursday.

Image via Shutterstock.

Contact the author at jolie@deadspin.com.



Our honeymoon was wonderful until our last night. It began as a lovely evening, we ate delicious food, drank entirely too many cocktails and retired to our hotel room around 2 am for some sexy time. We both passed out and the next thing I remember is being in an elevator on the fourth floor with the doors open. Our room was on the tenth floor.

My confusion woke me up and I looked at the floor to ceiling mirrors in the elevator and realize I am completely naked. In a panic, I close the elevator doors and return to the tenth floor. I desperately try to conceal my breasts and crotch as I frantically make my way down the long corridor to our room.

I obviously didn't have my room key because I was naked so I knocked on the door and my husband didn't wake up. I started pounding on the door and began to sob and scream my husband's name in hopes of stirring him from his drunken sleep. I leave this part out of the story when I tell my friends because it is so terrible but I was so terrified and still so drunk and I realized I really had to pee. My options were to piss myself while searching for a toilet on my floor while completely nude or pop a squat near our door. I emptied my bladder and began pounding on the door again when a guest in an adjacent room poked his head out to see what the commotion was. He went back to his room and grabbed a dress shirt for me to throw on. I'm a bit of an Amazon and this helpful gentleman was a petite Asian man so his shirt barely covered my breasts and my crotch was still exposed. He invited me into his room to use the phone to call the concierge and he ripped his bed sheet off of his bed so I could make a toga of shame.

Before the front desk answered the call, security was already on my floor because of numerous noise complaints. They asked if my husband and I had been in a fight, they asked why I was naked and all I could do is blow my nose and wail "I don't know!!" They eventually open the door and my husband FINALLY wakes up and comes to the door to see me wrapped in a sheet and sobbing. "Is this your wife, sir?"

He had to explain he hadn't kicked me out and that I could return to room. When we checked out the next day, I disguised myself like a post-plastic surgery celebrity and darted through the lobby and into the restaurant next door where my husband could pick me up without any hotel staff seeing me. We moved to Austin after our honeymoon and for years, I still can't cross the first street bridge because I can't even look at the Radisson without wanting to throw up.

I'll never sleep naked in a hotel again and neither should you.