Thursday, July 2, 2009

Am I a Drunken Sleepwalker?

Incident #1: I don't drink very often. I never have. Perhaps this is why I almost died on my 21st birthday(just kidding, Mom) after requesting hard alcohol as a birthday gift from attendees. Thankfully, Dan was around that night to keep me breathing(kidding again, Mom).

Since that night I've toned the boozing down quite a bit. Part of it is that turning 21 takes away some of the mystique of drinking, and the other part is the fact that I don't want to die. Needless to say, whenever I visit Illinois State, I'm a little out of my league.

A few months ago I was visiting the ILStu. My brother and his bros at the brotel(3 apartments in the same small complex with 4 guys in each apartment) were boozing, so I did too, but I took it easy like an old man. At least I thought I did.

I went to sleep on an air mattress, wearing a pair of boxers, a t-shirt, and basketball shorts. I woke up on the same air mattress, wearing the same boxers, the same t-shirt, and two pairs of basketball shorts.

Seeing that extra pair of shorts on my person served to initially confuse me, but they also acted as a memory trigger. Shortly after discovering I was wearing somebody's clothes, I was flooded with a sudden and clear recollection of what happened in the middle of the night. Here's what transpired.

I stumbled into my brother's roommate's bedroom at some point. He was with his girlfriend(I did not know her at all). I collected various pieces of clothing strewn about the room and created a makeshift pillow like a drunken Survivorman. I passed out.

I woke up. Instead of leaving, I sat on the roommate's bed. I did not say anything, nor did I make eye contact. I just sat there. They woke up pretty quickly after I did this. They did not say anything either, probably for one of two reasons. One, the scenario was too surreal, and they figured they were having some kind of freakish dream. Two, they were scared out of their minds.

I put on a pair of the roommate's shorts and returned to my air mattress in the living room.

I saw the roommate in the morning before I remembered these events. He must have been afraid that I was unstable/psychotic, because he didn't bring it up. But when I asked him later that day, he said that yes, that did indeed happen. It was not a dream. He also told me that his girlfriend was quite pleased that I made a pillow from her delicates.

Incident #2 This was a couple weeks ago. After a spontaneous night at Firebar, one of the many options on Crystal Lake's poo-poo platter of night spots, I quickly passed out upon returning home, two stories below where my brother was sleeping.

At some point in the night, I made my way up to his bedroom and sat on his bed. For some reason this woke him, and he kicked me off. There was an open bed in the room, and I gladly passed out on it despite the fact that it was missing a pillow and blanket. I remember this because I distinctly thought to myself, in my drunken stupor, "Hey, where did my pillow and blanket go?"


Apparently this is becoming a trend. But instead of hiding the problem or running away from it(and thus making it worse), I am choosing to get it out in the open right away. Maybe this way I'll stop making an ass of myself.

Feel free to chime in with an embarrassing booze-related story of your own to make me feel better.


  1. You really need to post a warning at the beginning of this blog that people should not read this if they are eating. Thanks to your lack of warning I now have to clean up the half-eaten turkey sandwich that is coving my laptop.



    I once woke up in the bed of a truck, in a parking lot on ISU's campus, next to the Union. Don't know who's truck, glad I never had to find out. I had red lines on one side of my face for 48 hours afterwards.


    Woke up naked, next to my bed with just a pillow. Looked around for girl didn't find one. So trying to figure out what happened, I go to take a leak and there are my soaking wet clothes lying in the tub. Shoes and all.

    Called a friend and found I walked home in a TORNADO house was 2 miles from where I was. Apparently I really wanted to go home.

    Moral of the story kids, never drink a bottle of Jose by yourself in one night.