Things that go rawr-zeeeeek in the night

Posted on June 4, 2007

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I shared E’s double bed while I was in Dubai, causing her house-mates and our friend International Playboy to indulge in dutiful eyebrow-raisings and sniggers. I am sure I.P. is not even the least titillated by the idea, but feels that it is his masculine duty to acknowledge that it’s supposed to be hot.
In the past when I have had occasion to spend the night at E’s house, I roomed with the W, because I was informed that E kicked in the night. She doesn’t kick. However, I woke up that first night because a cement mixer’s soul appeared to be in torment beside me. E had warned me that she ground her teeth at night, but I did not expect to have to vault out of bed in fear, wondering if I should press myself against a wall. Actually – being enamoured of sleep – I simply leaned over and asked what the squealing noise was and fell back asleep before she could answer.
In the morning I examined her teeth, amazed that she appeared to still have a full set. She informed me that her doctor had given her a mouth guard to stop her grinding her teeth – scaring the shit out of people, you mean! I snarled – and she put it in at night for the rest for the my stay.
Having gotten the unearthly Texas-chain-saw-massacre fear out of the way, I hoped to pass peaceful, drunken nights. The next night I turned over to feel a warm, furry lump in my armpit. There’s nothing scarier than unexpected textures, I feel, especially when you’re asleep. I open my eyes in a hurry to find myself face to face with E’s cat. I then looked down to find that I was holding its paw. Obviously it’s a good thing I woke up then before things between us got…steamy. E came over and kicked the cat out at that point, probably as a result of me having emitted some sort of shriek.

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Posted in: travel