Night in the Ruts

Trouble - Charlie

That was so awesome last night.  Oh my god.  The best.

        I keep my eyes closed, reliving the awesomeness of it.  Jess was right, it was the best night of my life.  I could've talked and laughed with The-not-Walrus all night.

        Come to think of it, I don't remember even going home or seeing Jess afterwards.  Strange.

        I don't even remember my mom asking how the show was.  Huh.

        I peek one eye open, steeling myself to be blinded by the light right outside the window that just so happened to be right next to my bed.  But instead, I saw the blurry form of my nightstand.  But it wasn't my nightstand.  And my walls weren't plastered with posters.  And my sheets weren't blue.  And my bed wasn't covered with stuffed animals.

        What the hell?

        The clock on the dark wooden nightstand read just past ten o'clock.  The walls were papered in a striped and floral pattern.  The sheets were a scratchy white.  Someone was snoring on the deep green couch, and directly across from me in the other bed was the bare back of no other than my sister.  And next to her was Joe Perry.

        Where am I?

        I turn over and–shit.  Shit shit shit.  I'm done for.  I'm dead.  I'm so going down.

       In front of me was the sleeping Walrus.  His bare chest rose and fell slowly with his breathing.  A little smile traced his lips.

        What did I do?!  I need to leave.  Like, now.

        Carefully, so as not to wake any of them up, I slip out of the sheets.  I had managed to wrap them all around me throughout the night so it was a bit hard to get up.

        Carefully is the wrong word.  My foot caught in the sheets and I fell to the floor with a crash.  "Shit," I mutter.

        Miraculously, I didn't have to search for my clothes–they were still on.  My shoes were right next to my face (now that I was on the floor).

        I stood up after a brief moment of panic that I had woken someone.   I tied my shoes and poked Jess in the back, then crept across the floor of the hotel room, hoping to God that I was still in Bristol, Rhode Island.

        I pulled the door open and made my way down the long, carpeted hallway, finally home-free... For the most part.

        I don’t remember anything at all from last night.   Just telling the Walrus my name was Penny, and then us singing Penny Lane and many other Beatles tunes.  I drank some Coke–

        Oh, God.  I’ve heard about this before: The guy puts a pill in your drink, the pill knocks you out, and then you wake up the next morning to find that he took advantage of you and you don’t remember a thing.  Shit.

        But, I only had like two Cokes, and I was holding them the whole time!  They never left my hands.  I just got in the car and everything else didn’t happen–I don't remember it!  This is so weird.  It’s pissing me off that I can’t remember what was probably the greatest night of my life.  I slept with–for the first time ever, by the way–a lead singer who’s name I don’t really know (and that's not a good thing, by the way).  My mom didn’t know we were spending the night; we were supposed to come home.

        And, I’m not sure about this, but shouldn’t I have had to search for my clothes when I woke up this morning?  I mean, I’m not so sure what happens behind those closed doors, but I guess I did something right.  Maybe.