I’ve been reminiscing with the Scooby gang – yeah, we’ve never called ourselves that, but I like it so I’m going with it – about old Buffy convention weekends, and it reminded me of one story from 2006 that never really got told properly.

At the time I only gave it a passing mention on the blog: “accidentally locked a maid in our room.” A throwaway line buried in a list of other ridiculous moments, like “used fake ID”, “got banned from the hotel” and “got caught naked in embarrassing situations.”

Looking back, they probably all deserved more than a bullet point.

In 2006, we went to a Buffy convention, me, Brett, Jamie, Sarah, Debs, plus Ben and Lee. As usual, we booked a single hotel room, where we stretched the maximum-occupancy limits until it creaked. From the first night, the floor was a patchwork of sleeping bags and spare pillows, and you had to step over at least two people just to get to the bathroom.

Halfway through the weekend, the lock on the door broke. It would open from the outside, but not from the inside. We called reception to get it fixed, then immediately realised the room looked like a makeshift refugee camp. Everyone scrambled to hide the extra bedding.

When the maid arrived, Brett and Jamie panicked that she might be suspicious. Jamie dove behind the curtain, feet still sticking out, while Brett crammed himself into the wardrobe. The rest of us stood there trying to look casual, which only made us look guiltier. She stepped in, closed the door to test it – and as you’d expect locked herself inside with us.

She called down to reception to explain that she, too, was now stuck in the room.

We sat in awkward silence for what felt like a very long time.

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

And then, Brett decided he’d had enough of the wardrobe.

From the maid’s perspective, she’s stuck in an already overcrowded room with a bunch of suspicious-acting strangers who somehow looked both drunk and hungover, when suddenly a large man steps out of the wardrobe and there’s clearly someone else behind the curtain. She looked ready to bolt – which wasn’t an option, thanks to the lock.

It took at least another ten minutes for someone to come and let her out.

We got the door fixed in the end, but I’m pretty sure that poor maid still checks those wardrobes and curtains first whenever she walks into a room.