Friday December 22, 2006 SGN.org |
 |
Volume 34 Issue 51 |
 |
|
Friday, Jul 04, 2008
|
 |
|||||||||||
|
|||||||||||
|
| |||||||||||
|
Tour De Life by Beau Burriola |
||
 |
||
| Gin! | ||
|
[Editor's Note: While Beau is off visiting family this week, join him on an airplane flashback of Christmas two years ago.] The sunlight crept stealthy across the floor, gradually climbing up the bedpost and along my legs, and turning into a warm tingle brushing across my arms and nose, tickling me awake. For a moment I lay there wrapped heavily in sleep, until the blurred green numbers on my alarm clock came in to focus: 9 1 3 9 1 3 9:13 Shit! I must have forgotten to set my alarm clock. UghIs that a gin hangover? YOoouuuuuwwwwwwww ch. Late for work, I began to stand and fumble to the bathroom, managing only one eye open for the journey. I began undressing on my way, pulling my pajama bottoms down around my legs while I was hopping. It was there, standing mostly naked outside of my bedroom door into the hallway of my one-bedroom apartment, that I got my second morning surprise. I was frozen mid-step staring at a pair of hairy legs sticking out of a blanket on my living room floor. Who the hell is that? I scrambled to remember what might have happened to put someone on my floor, but both the gin headache and the awful hunger gnawing at my stomach blocked any recollection of the night before. Instinctively, I was relieved that the stranger was on my living room floor and not in my bed. At twenty-five years old, I'd like to think I'm mostly done with the all night bar binge weekends of just a couple of years ago, but then if that were true, why were legs on my floor? I decided to peek around the corner slowly without making any noise. If I didn't know him, I certainly didn't want him to wake up and see that I didn't know. I felt my pulse quicken as I leaned, fueling my pounding gin headache with thoughts of what could have happened last night. As I peeked up the legs, I saw a butt cheek and pulled back. They weren't wearing clothes. I took a quiet breath and leaned again. Just before I could peek far enough to get a glimpse of the legs above the waist, I heard the sound of shuffling blankets. Shit. He's awake! I froze. Trying to be as still as I could, I focused my eyes on the shifting legs. Something wasn't quite right. One foot was bigger than the other and the hair on one was longer and black but the other was shit! My eyes widened. That's more than two hairy legs! That's more than four hairy legs! To give myself a moment to figure out what was going on, I ducked into the bathroom and closed the door, but was sent back out a half-second later by the sudden overbearing odor of vomit. Something happened in the bathroom and I didn't care what. I slipped right back into my hallway. Dear God get me out of this mess! Running back to the safety of my bed, because at least it was warm and cozy, I shut my bedroom door and put the sheets over my head. Sooner or later I'd have to deal with the legs on my floor, but later was looking better to me. Get me out of this mess and I'll never drink gin again! There was a knock on my bedroom door. "We heard you running around," a strange voice said, "are you okay?" I paused, wondering what you say to a pair of hairy legs you don't recognize. "Yes, just late for work." Silence. "You said you don't work today," the voice said back. With that, realization began to cascade over me. YES! I don't work on Christmas Eve! Those strange legs aren't my legsI mean, they were never my legs, but they belong to the couple and their friend that didn't want to drive drunk back to Everett ! I offered my floor! They really are just legs on my floor! "Sorry about your bathroom," the voice said, "we didn't get right to bed." I guess not. Completely awake now, I stood up to walk over to the door. Opening it slightly, I looked at the barely-familiar face and pointed to the hallway. "Um, would you mind handing me my boxer briefs please? Thanks." And so, for all of my readers, but especially for the boy I'm seeing, that is how I woke up to three naked strangers in my house this Christmas Eve and had to ask one of them for my underwear back. Beau Burriola is a writer who no longer drinks gin. E-mail him at: beau@beaubrent.com |
||
|
visit Beau at www.beaubrent.com
|
||
 |
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
International Readers read the SGN in Arabic, Chinese, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Korean, Portuguese, Spanish |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 post your own information on Seattle Gay Blog |
copyright Seattle Gay News - DigitalTeamWorks 2006