Vegas: No Sleep For Poor Men

So, there were three of us. And at all of the hotels we were staying, two beds.

Even before we embarked, my two friends were already playing Rock Paper Scissors to see who had to share a bed with me. For some reason I can’t fathom, I was the designated whore by default. It was a nice feeling though, to know that even if I were thousand of miles away from Singapore, in wholly new social circles, I still had my familiar rung of the social ladder to count on.

Yet, for all the noise they made about have to share a bed with me, it was ironic that I was the one who suffered the most.

You see, I take some time to get to sleep, a good 15 to 20 minutes to doze off completely. Secondly, I do my best to be as courteous as possible, so I try to minimize tossing and turning when someone else is in bed with me.

This means that for those minutes in bed when I’m still fully alert, I force myself to keep completely silent and immobile. Seriously, I’d feel more relaxed if I were in a lift filled to the brim with all the teachers who hate me. And with my girlfriend’s parents. And my exes. And the electricity suddenly cut off. And I needed to fart.

Although my mother warned me years ago never to publicize what I do in bed, I see no reason to keep tight-lipped now. The first night I retreated to my side as much as I could, to give my friend more space.

I also kept deathly still, and squeezed my eyes shut hoping that sleep would rescue me from this ordeal. The result was that I felt completely trapped, a tense balled-up lovemachine this close to falling, not to sleep, but off the bed.

This is the part of the story where words simply do not do justice – the follow pictures represent my sleeping arrangements for the first night.

11.00 P.M. – Lights out. All is well.
11.05 P.M. – Friend starts shifting closer to me. I exhale as much air as I can, hoping to take up less space. I begin to hate him.
11.30 P.M. – Friend is snoring, but I still can’t sleep in my cramped corner. I begin to lose temper, and contemplate sleeping on the floor. I start counting sheep, but end up killing them.
11.50 P.M. to 2.00 A.M. – Just. Kill. Me. I am in a ball on a bed because I dozed off and his leg was over mine. How the (!@&# did he end up sleeping diagonally someone please tell me.

On a side not, yay, I finally managed to use the markers I brought here to the US. I'm just glad I have my bed all to myself now.