I'm in Munich staying at Rick's flat. I came back early by myself last night because I was feeling sick. I went to bed about 11pm. Rick was out at a concert and came home, plastered around 4 or 5am. I was asleep as he came in. In his absolute drunkenness he forgot both that I was staying with him, and that he had given me his bed. This combined with the method that he gets into bed, which consists of a drunken run followed by a jump into the air resulted in me waking at 5 in the morning to Rick landing on me. I can't really think of a time that I've been more startled or disoriented. He jumped off, about as scared as I was, wondering who or what was in his bed, began apologizing profusely and then stumbled into the living room to collapse on the couch.
4 Comments
I used to get into bed like that when I was little. Is Rick afraid of monsters under the bed?
Are you feeling any better?
Im getting there.
I am not afraid of monsters under the bed. It is simply my Calvin-like nature. However, I am now afraid of monsters IN my bed.
Waking in the middle of the night after a nightmare, I would always make sure I leapt at least four feet away from the bed before hitting ground, and I wouldn’t look back until I was out of the room.
Sometimes, I’d get into my parents’ room and decide that I didn’t want to wake them, so I’d dally around for a couple minutes before working up the courage to make the running leap back into my bed.
As far as I was concerned, there was a whole mess of these guys under there.
Of course, when I had to share a room with my brother and I was on the top bunk, the running leap didn’t quite get me high enough (my legs would be dangling, and my toes would be defenseless against their razor-sharp teeth). That’s when I found a new use for my Lil’ Slugger.
[the spellchecker doesn’t seem to like my use of ‘leapt’]