At one particular convention -- I think it was a WesterCon, but don't quote me -- that was held in a high-rise hotel, the filkers couldn't find an amenable party-room. We tried singing in an empty conference room, and were chased out by ConOps. We tried singing in a far corner of the hallway, and were chased out by hotel security. We tried singing in the hotel bar, and were chased out by the bartender.

Then I got a weird idea. Being an Anarchist, and therefore always checking for escape-routes, I'd found the hotel's cargo elevator on the first day of the Con. I invited the other filk-fen to grab some drinkables and follow me, and I led them to the cargo elevator. There I punched the button for the top floor, and up we went -- a good 15 floors, IIRC -- singing all the way. Once at the top, we punched the ground-floor button and went back down, singing all the way. It made for a great party; any time anyone had to get off -- for potty-breaks or to collect more food, drink, ice, etc. -- they'd get off at a particular floor, get their business done, then go back and punch the button, and get back on the elevator. We kept the party going until nearly 4 in the morning, and a fine time was had by all.

What we didn't find out until later was that hotel guests near the cargo elevator (not blocked for the convention) had phoned repeatedly complaining of "loud music" at "somebody's party" that couldn't be tracked down. The hotel security people would trot up to the floor where the complaint had come from, hear no music and return, baffled, to the security desk -- only to be rousted again by another call, from a different floor. Unknowingly, we'd kept the hotel security staff running up and down the hotel -- always several floors too late -- almost all night. Hotel security complained to Con security, who relayed the complaint to ConOps, who didn't know whom to blame in particular. I heard about the complaint the next day, in the Hospitality Suite. Did I know anything about the mysterious traveling Filk party? Who, me? All I said was: "Well, I guess that's what you can expect when you don't have a convention room set aside for the Filkers."

Funny thing, but the next WesterCon I went to had a room reserved for filking all convention long. What's more, at the next WesterCon -- the infamous WesterCon 40, where everything went wrong except the filking -- I found myself put in charge of the Filksinging program, which is the one part of that convention's program that did go off smoothly.