I know they said the human bed-warmer would be wearing a fleece onesie, and their hair would be covered, but this creeps me out.
But it doesn't creep me out as bad as when I turned down the bed in my Salt Lake City Airport Hilton room at 11:15 p.m. and found pubic hair.
I had just checked in.
It wasn't mine.
I called the front desk only to be informed that their housekeeping staff was long gone and would not return until morning. I raised holy hell to the point that they finally sent up someone from the desk crew with clean sheets, and I watched as he changed my bed. They had wanted me to come to the desk and get the sheets and change my own bed, and I told them that if I did, then I wouldn't owe them any money, because I was paying not only for a place to sleep, but for services. "If I have to change my own goddam bed, then I'm not paying you a dime!"
They changed it, all right, and shortly after, I got my company to switch to a different hotel.