One Loud Hilton Hotel

Part of being in the Navy involves traveling. Another part of the Navy sometimes involves drinking. Since I don’t do the latter, when the former occurs, I end up being the designated driver. I like being social, so I hang around just until the night vaguely teeters towards silliness and then I leave. (Of course, I make sure everyone is back at the hotel.)

We always end up staying at one particular Hilton in DC. I know all the staff, know what their kids are up to, and even email the manager when I want a room. It is a good situation we have. (Although with the tight travel budget, my office no longer travels. Which is fine.)

On one wild night, I was awoken at two in the morning by the sound of shrieking coming from the courtyard below. Unfortunately, I recognized the voice as one of the office ladies who I work with. (She was laughing like a hyena at a joke.) I wrapped a pillow around my ears and tried to sleep. In the morning (and every month or so) I remind the shrieker of her drunken yells. She now (two years later) tries to deny it was her. But the advantage of being the one sober one? You remember.

Another guy staying at another Hilton (named walterwhitmanwhite on reddit) actually heard some commotion at two in the morning, but thought nothing of it. He awoke to bullets scattered around his room:

Imagine you’re sleeping in a hotel bed and you’re woken up by a loud noise. You get up in a groggy and disoriented state and assume it’s coming from the guests on the floor above, so you go back to sleep. You wake in the morning to discover that your hotel room is riddled with bullet holes and you’re probably lucky to be alive.

That was reality for one man who checked into a Hilton hotel in Phoenix, Ariz. on Thursday. Reddit user “walterwhitmanwhite” posted several photos of the aftermath on Reddit Friday morning in a post titled, “I nearly got shot last night and I didn’t even know it.” The photos, which show shattered glass, peppered drywall and even a spent bullet by his bedside, are incredible:

walterwhitmanwhite at the Hiton Hotel with bullet holes

walterwhitmanwhite at the Hiton Hotel with bullet holes

Moral of the story: avoid Hilton Hotels at two in the morning.

9 thoughts on “One Loud Hilton Hotel

  1. This could be the start of a story from a book, how, who, why, when?

    As a young Corporal operating in Belize, Central America; I once woke up in bed wearing full PT rig (training shoes and all). I remember staring at my surroundings wondering where I was, and even who I was? Having left a rum hut with all of my marines at very ‘daft o clock’ that same morning I was in an absolute daze, I could smell food, which aroused my appetite. I looked at my watch and realised I had missed breakfast, so I stripped off headed on a zig zag course to the ablution block and showered-shaved and then jumped into rig to find sustenance at the NAAFI shop (fortunately I was still so drunk that the hangover hadn’t kicked in).

    Adopting the same zig zag routine I found my section sat outside the NAAFI in the shade, still in PT kit; some asleep sitting over tables, others in a stupor’s haze, apparently ‘we had all’ been for a run and it was my idea? Thankfully it was Saturday and breakfast had not even started (brunch on a Saturday starting at 09:00hrs to 12:30hrs).

    The joy of realising that I was rigged and ready to go to breakfast was overwhelming; the hangover kicked in a few hours later and the joyous feeling turned to wretchedness. It was at this point that I swore if the hangover was to go immediately I would never drink again and I would also start attending church. Some one wasn’t listening so I turned to Brufen and lots of bottled water instead.

    Happy days when I was blessed with an excess of brain cells and losing some did me no harm.

    Yours Aye.

  2. I have to disagree Navy One…water doesn’t help it at all…in fact it exacerbates a hangover and makes you really miserable….take it from someone who knows those feelings and results….and rolling down the lovely Azorean hills of Lajes Field, AZ….k

  3. We were staying in a hotel in Austin at the same time there was some sort of hot-rod auto show going on. Many of the hot-rodders were staying at the same hotel, and they stayed up late drinking and revving their engines. Apparently a disagreement broke out near my daughter’s room. She said she woke up to some guy yelling,”I’m a man – a full grown man.” and some drunken yelling that was fortunately obscured. In my daughter’s drowsy state, she picked up the phone and called the desk to say, “There is a fight outside.” and hung up. She promptly went back to sleep. She later told us that she had read a story where someone had been attacked and was yelling for help, but no one helped and the person died. In her sleepy state, she wanted to help and calling the front desk was the best she could do. Anyway, it appeased her conscience and let her sleep.

      • We are not Sooners. We are Cowboys.

        I remember when Gundy said that – pretty funny. The guy at the hotel added, “I’m a grown-ass man!” which is also pretty funny. We sometimes holler these words when appropriate – as a joke. I guess it is an Okie thang.

        • Whoops! Sorry. . . One of my roommates was a Cowboy and he explained me the whole difference. And he would not be happy that I totally missed the boat. Don’t tell him. (At the end of that “I’m a man, I’m 40,” there is a clip of a kid doing “I’m a man, I’m 3.”

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