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Let's talk about the WiFi in room 404. You ever been in a room where the WiFi is slower than a sloth in quicksand? I tried to load a webpage, and I swear I aged a year waiting for it. I called the front desk and said, "Is the WiFi on vacation? Did it check out with the guests who disappeared in room 404?" They assured me it was working fine, but I suspect they were communicating through carrier pigeons because it sure wasn't reaching my devices.
I thought about leaving a Yelp review, but I was afraid it would get lost in the vast internet wasteland, just like the WiFi signal in room 404. Maybe they should rename it to "Room 404: Where Your Connection Goes to Die.
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You ever notice how hotel rooms are designed to be like mazes? I recently stayed in a hotel, and they put me in room 404. I thought, "Great, now even the room number is mocking me. 'Error 404: Comedy Not Found.'" I walked into the room, and it was like a labyrinth. I couldn't find anything. The bathroom was hidden behind a sliding door that I thought was a closet. I opened it expecting to hang my shirts, but nope, just a toilet staring back at me.
And then there's the TV remote. You know you're in for a challenge when the remote has more buttons than your car dashboard. I spent a good 10 minutes just trying to figure out how to turn on the closed captioning. By the time I did, I missed the entire plot of the movie. I think it was something about a detective solving crimes in a hotel. Ironically, I could relate.
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I started to think room 404 is like the Bermuda Triangle of hotels. People check in, but you never hear from them again. I half-expected flight attendants to come on the intercom, warning us about the mysterious disappearances in room 404. I called the front desk for some guidance, and they were like, "Oh, it's easy to find. Just go down the hall, turn left, take the elevator to the second floor, do a little dance, spin around three times, and voila, you're there." I'm just trying to find my bed, not summon a hotel spirit.
I eventually found my way, but I swear the room was messing with me. The lights turned off automatically every time I sat down. I started feeling like I was in a real-life game of "Simon Says" with the hotel room. Maybe it was training me for the next season of "Hotel Ninja Warrior.
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You know how socks always seem to disappear in the laundry? Well, in room 404, socks vanish even faster. I put my socks on in the morning, walked to the bathroom, and by the time I got there, one sock had pulled a Houdini act. I don't know where it went. Maybe there's a sock dimension in room 404. I tried to retrace my steps like I was solving a crime. "Last seen on my left foot, presumed missing near the mini-fridge." I even interrogated the cleaning staff, but they were as clueless as I was. If there's a sock black market, room 404 is the place to be.
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