Monday, October 02, 2006
Nightmares in Shangri-La
So the first thing I remember is I'm standing in the hallway banging on the door.
It's late, or early. Depending on who you ask.
I'm standing there knocking/banging and I'm standing there in boxers and black socks and a white singlet. A wife beater.
And I'm busting to take a piss. Absolutely fucking busting.
I don't know how long I was out there. I don't even know why. I just knew that I needed a toilet, or similar, fast.
I began to look around the halls for a pot plant. Something. Anything. But no luck.
Back to the door. Keep knocking. Louder.
It's started to get cold now but all i can think of is my bladder.
It's full to the brim with the remnants of the night's alcohol intake. Jack Daniels. No ice. No mixer.
I'm very rock and roll.
I rock quite hard. Which is how I found myself in that state. An evening of loud rock and roll music and copious amounts of alcohol. All the elements of a pleasant evening. Including the missing memory.
And it was a pleasant evening. Very much so. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm locked out of my hotel room in my underwear and a bladder full of booze.
Hoping, praying to a fictional deity that my room mate isn't a heavy sleeper.
It's late, or early. Depending on who you ask.
I'm standing there knocking/banging and I'm standing there in boxers and black socks and a white singlet. A wife beater.
And I'm busting to take a piss. Absolutely fucking busting.
I don't know how long I was out there. I don't even know why. I just knew that I needed a toilet, or similar, fast.
I began to look around the halls for a pot plant. Something. Anything. But no luck.
Back to the door. Keep knocking. Louder.
It's started to get cold now but all i can think of is my bladder.
It's full to the brim with the remnants of the night's alcohol intake. Jack Daniels. No ice. No mixer.
I'm very rock and roll.
I rock quite hard. Which is how I found myself in that state. An evening of loud rock and roll music and copious amounts of alcohol. All the elements of a pleasant evening. Including the missing memory.
And it was a pleasant evening. Very much so. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm locked out of my hotel room in my underwear and a bladder full of booze.
Hoping, praying to a fictional deity that my room mate isn't a heavy sleeper.