These Stairs Are Killing Me!!!

Three brothers went to New York to have some fun. When they returned from a night of partying they noticed that the elevators were out of order. Their suite was on the 75th floor. Jerry had an idea how they could make it up the stairs. He would tell jokes for 25 floors, Fred would sing for the next 25 and Jim would tell stories for the last 25. And that’s the way it went. Jerry told jokes, Fred sang and Jim told stories. On the 74th floor, Jim said, “Ok, I have one more story but you’re not going to like it. I left the room key in the car.”

As a comedian, I have a lot of hotel stories. I did a show in Missoula, Montana. The next morning I just stepped out of the shower and was going to my suitcase for my clothes. I was naked. I heard a voice just outside my room, “Now let me show you our largest room.” The door opened and there was the manager with a young couple! I instinctively dove to the side of the bed, hitting the nightstand pretty hard with my head. 


I couldn’t ask for a refund because the room was comped, but they did pay for the ER visit to stitch my head and for the next two nights of work that I missed because of the concussion which made it impossible to drive. 

I got a concussion at one other hotel. I felt like I was playing in the NFL. It was raining pretty hard and several of my friends and I went out to dinner. Going back into the hotel we decided to run. I had bought some new shoes with leather soles that morning so they were very slick. I was behind everyone and as we hit the cobblestone walkway I slipped and crashed head first into a remarkably sturdy newspaper rack. 

I’ve always been a prankster so my friends just thought I was hiding from them. After 15 minutes they knew something was wrong so they told the security guy and he started looking for me. He finally found me in the bushes covered with mud and blood, compliments of a pretty bad gash on my head.

Again a trip to the ER, more stitches and another concussion. The hotel manager comped my room and meals for the next two days, checking in on me every hour. I think they were afraid I was going to sue them which never even crossed my now jumbled brain. 

Another time I was in Montreal at the Hyatt. It was a great hotel with a lot of nooks and crannies to explore. I was bored so I set out to check it all out. As I walked through one door on the bottom floor, the door shut and locked behind me. I was stuck. Oh, did I mention it was December, I had no jacket on and it was freezing and I left my cell phone in the room? 

There was an emergency door that lead outside. The problem was that there was three feet of snow outside, blocking the door. It took me about 45 minutes to get the door open enough to squeeze out. By now I was sweaty, my hair was a crazy mess and I trudged through the snow to the first place I could find which was their five star restaurant where the patrons were dressed to the nines (weird phrase). 

There was a door but I quickly discovered that it was also an emergency exit. I began pounding on the glass while the diners thought I was a crazy lunatic so they ignored me. I felt like Rick Moranis in Ghostbusters. Someone finally summoned a waiter to complain and he wouldn’t let me in until I showed him my room key. 

The waiter pushed on the door while I pulled and I was finally able to squeeze through that door too. This door was at the very back of the fine restaurant. By now, I was soaking wet and covered with snow. I made the walk of shame out of the restaurant while enduring stares of disgust from everyone. I went back to my room, took a hot shower and ordered room service. At least I wasn’t naked or hit my head on anything. 
See you tomorrow. 
Facebook: Jerry Mabbott 

Twitter: @jmabbott


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s