Ever noticed hotel corridors that jump from Room 419 straight to Room 421? It's not a numbering mistake. Hotels around the world have quietly retired the number 420, and the reason is a mix of cannabis culture, petty theft and hard business lessons.
The number 420 has been slang for marijuana for decades. The best-documented origin story traces back to a group of teenagers at San Rafael High School in California, who met at 4:20 p.m. to smoke together. Their private code word spread — partly thanks to a connection with the Grateful Dead's bassist — and eventually became global cannabis shorthand. (The theory that it was a police code has been debunked.)
For hotels, the problem is twofold. First, the signs keep getting stolen. Guests treat Room 420 plaques as souvenirs, forcing hotels to order replacements again and again. The issue is so widespread that sign-maker Hotelsigns.com ran a 2016 promotion giving away free Room 420 signs to newsletter subscribers. Roads have the same trouble: Colorado officials replaced a frequently stolen "Mile 420" marker near Stratton with one reading "Mile 419.99."
Second, there's the risk of the room becoming a smoke-filled party spot, plus a reputational headache. Las Vegas offers a cautionary tale: The Lexi opened in 2023 as a cannabis- and topless-sunbathing-friendly hotel, proudly numbering its fourth-floor suites 420A and 420B. Occupancy reportedly sank to 30%, group bookings dried up, and the hotel dropped the concept entirely. Its website now states that cannabis-friendly rooms are no longer offered.
Hotels that keep the number have gotten creative. Travellers have spotted signage reading "419+1," a "no smoking" notice printed directly on the Room 420 sign that appears on no other door, and — at the Larkspur Landing in Sacramento — a corridor that skips from 419 to 421. Amusingly, that brand is named after Larkspur in Marin County, the very place where 420 is believed to have been born.
Why should a traveller care? Mostly as a fun bit of hotel trivia — but it's also practical. If you're booking a room on the fourth floor of a property in the US and your confirmation says 421, don't assume there's been an error. And if you were hoping for a cannabis-friendly stay, don't count on a hotel marketing itself that way: The Lexi's experience shows how quickly the industry can reverse course when the novelty hurts the bottom line. The skipped room number has joined the missing 13th floor as a quiet quirk of hotel design — one born not of superstition, but of stolen plaques and wary managers.
