My First Hostel Experience

This is about my first night at a hostel, and how it shaped my life forever.

I grabbed a couple thousand dollars in cash from my safe, hid the rest of the money in my closet, and hopped in a cab. The cabbie asked me, “where to”? I said, “JFK airport.” Not sure where to go, I bought a one-way ticket to San Diego.

Maybe it was 2AM when I landed, but I can’t remember. All I remember is I went over to a green shuttle bus that was parked in the pick-up lane.

The driver asked me where I was goin.

I said, “Can you take me to the cool part of San Diego?”

He dropped me off in the middle of The Gaslamp District and I put my backpack on the ground and looked at the chaos.

I went inside some bar and ordered a drink… like I always did. Now I’m sober, but I used to order drinks, and lots of them.

So I order my drink: scotch. Any brand’ll do. Didn’t matter. And I start pondering life as I normally did at moments such as these.

What should I do?

Why am I here?

Where do I sleep?

What do I fear?

I was scared of hostels, not sure why, but I always wanted to try one. Just never had the balls. I was twenty-six years old. I googled “hostel san diego”

Up popped USA Hostels San Diego.

It was only a few blocks away.

The bar was now closing, I was the only person there. In fact.. I had been the only person there since the second I walked in.

So I stumbled over to 5th Ave and G Street and knocked on the hostel door.

Someone came through on the buzzer

Yeah?

I got a reservation.

A bed?

I made a reservation online. Just now. might not be in. it in?

I was so drunk.

Just got here from NY. I’m from NY. I just got here.

They buzzed me in, they checked my ID, they gave me a receipt, which was to be magnetized to the side of my bed, and a towel and key. I walked over to room five.

This felt odd.

I opened the door and flipped the lights on. There were eight people asleep in their beds. I hit the light switch again and found the flashlight app on my phone. What a noob I was.

I stumbled around the small room like a dipshit, aiming my light in peoples’ faces. I found an empty bed. My head was dizzy as I made myself comfortable. I fell drunkenly asleep. The noise of “the Party Room” down the hall made me feel like I was missing out on youth as I drifted off.

EY!

I woke up.

Thehs someone een me fucken BED!

Some british sounding dude starts screaming at me, drunk as a muthafuck.

THEHS SOMEONE IN MA FUCKIN BED!

and he marched out the room and started demanding

AH NEED ANOTHA FUCKIN BED! THEHS SOMEONE IN MA BED!

Dammit, I was in was his bed. All his shit was right there next to me. Fuck. I got up–nervous as shit–and hopped in another bed at the other side of the room.

I woke up startled as hell in the morning and remembered everything. Holy shit… What if this guy kicks the shit outta me? I looked over at the bed and he wasn’t there.

Was he still drunk? Or awake and wandering around? Did they give him another bed?

I looked at his stuff and his stuff was not there.

Fuck… he could be anywhere.

I hadn’t seen his face last night; it was too hazy and I was sleep as fuck. He coulda been anyone, but I’d remember that accent forever. Anyway, I made it my goal to get revenge. Boy oh boy would I get even with him… and I did.

Here’s part two of my first hostel experience.

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