A Favorite New Year's Story
Several years ago, I went to a friend's lake house for New Year's with the guy I was dating. We got there first, so early that I had to go fish the key from the top-secret hiding place. I can't tell you where it is, but a fake rock might be involved.
Getting to the house first meant that we got to pick our room first. Other than our hostess's room, all others were potential fair game. We took the bedroom off the living area, with the second-best view of the lake and a bathroom to share with just one other room. The room was noted by all to be the second-best in a house with five or six full bedrooms, plus a dorm room in the basement.
Car by car, the rest of the guests began to arrive. I think the final total was six children, all between 7 and 14 years of age, and at least 13 adults.
Midnight came and went. Bottles of wine and champagne were emptied. Children were sliding down the spiral staircase on cardboard boxes. Videos were played on surround sound. And I got tired. And cranky. And did I mention tired?
I went to bed. Or tried to. The drawback to the fabulous room is that it is right next to the living room. With the big screen tv. And surround sound. So I was listening to the climactic battle of Star Wars at about 2:30 a.m. When I was already part-drunk, angry at my very-drunk boyfriend, and desperately trying to go to sleep.
It was cold. It was January, obviously. I'm reasonably certain there was snow on the ground. But we all had cars. So I took it upon myself to go find one to sleep in. I took blankets. Warm socks. A pillow. And went and curled up in the back seat of my boyfriend's car. Which should indicate how desperate I really was, had you ever seen the fur-covered state of that car.
Apparently, after I left, Boyfriend came in the room to find me gone and a search ensued. All bedrooms checked. All closets searched. All bathrooms investigated. No sign of me anywhere.
My friends, a married couple who'd gone to bed at approximately 10:30 p.m., heard the fracas. Her comment, "Go see if she's out in one of the cars." Her dutiful husband? "Huh?" "Tell her she can sleep in here," the wife says.
He comes right out to the car. I can tell he's half asleep. I'd been waking up bit by bit, what with the cold nose and toes. I rolled down the window.
"What's up?" I asked.
"What're you doing out here?"
"Trying to sleep."
I could see him trying to puzzle this out.
Instead of an invitation to their room, this is what I get: "Don't be ridiculous. You can sleep in our car."
Getting to the house first meant that we got to pick our room first. Other than our hostess's room, all others were potential fair game. We took the bedroom off the living area, with the second-best view of the lake and a bathroom to share with just one other room. The room was noted by all to be the second-best in a house with five or six full bedrooms, plus a dorm room in the basement.
Car by car, the rest of the guests began to arrive. I think the final total was six children, all between 7 and 14 years of age, and at least 13 adults.
Midnight came and went. Bottles of wine and champagne were emptied. Children were sliding down the spiral staircase on cardboard boxes. Videos were played on surround sound. And I got tired. And cranky. And did I mention tired?
I went to bed. Or tried to. The drawback to the fabulous room is that it is right next to the living room. With the big screen tv. And surround sound. So I was listening to the climactic battle of Star Wars at about 2:30 a.m. When I was already part-drunk, angry at my very-drunk boyfriend, and desperately trying to go to sleep.
It was cold. It was January, obviously. I'm reasonably certain there was snow on the ground. But we all had cars. So I took it upon myself to go find one to sleep in. I took blankets. Warm socks. A pillow. And went and curled up in the back seat of my boyfriend's car. Which should indicate how desperate I really was, had you ever seen the fur-covered state of that car.
Apparently, after I left, Boyfriend came in the room to find me gone and a search ensued. All bedrooms checked. All closets searched. All bathrooms investigated. No sign of me anywhere.
My friends, a married couple who'd gone to bed at approximately 10:30 p.m., heard the fracas. Her comment, "Go see if she's out in one of the cars." Her dutiful husband? "Huh?" "Tell her she can sleep in here," the wife says.
He comes right out to the car. I can tell he's half asleep. I'd been waking up bit by bit, what with the cold nose and toes. I rolled down the window.
"What's up?" I asked.
"What're you doing out here?"
"Trying to sleep."
I could see him trying to puzzle this out.
Instead of an invitation to their room, this is what I get: "Don't be ridiculous. You can sleep in our car."
posted by Miss Head at
7:55 AM
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