The Morning After

I woke up this morning to find a pile of shit in the middle of my kitchen floor.  How that pile shit came to be is a story with roots that stretch back to Friday night.

***

Friday night Coral and I had a date night.  It was payday, Margot took Mads for the evening, and the movie Pirate Radio was playing (fun movie BTW).

As luck would have it, I started developing a head cold Friday afternoon at work, but I didn’t want to cancel the first night in forever when Coral and I had a chance to hit the town, spend some money and have fun so I manned up and trudged on.

After the film, I was pretty sick and when we got home I crushed a cup full of NyQuil and headed off to dreamland.

The thing about NyQuil is that it is a horrible narcotic.  NyQuil is supposed to pass you the fuck out so can sleep well and get better medicine (that is what the commercial says right?)  But I just ended up having lucid dreams and at 4AM, I woke.  Sick  but very much awake.  I couldn’t sleep so I woke up and watched infomercials and music videos.  They still show videos on the TV overnight, neat.

I didn’t get any better and by 6AM I needed to sleep because I was working at The Zone.  I didn’t want to call in because I was already filling in due to the Zone being short staffed with holidays going on.  I trudged in and kinda half slept, half push buttons.  By 3PM, I was full on sleeping in the chair at the Zone and wiping snot off my face.

Sadness, Saturday night was my brother CJ’s 28th birthday.  I texted Coral and told her there was no way I’d be in shape for dinner, but if I slept maybe I could do the hockey game.

I came home had a little nap… then found the DayQuil.  Looking back now, I would call this the TSN turning point.  I felt like a regular champion and met up with the boys for CJ’s birthday feeling no pain.

A few beers and an S-Kings shutout victory later, I am at Sugar to see Armchair Cynics/Acres of Lions/Vince Vaccaro.  I am drunk… nothing out of the ordinary for a night club on  a Saturday night.

The show ends, its 1 o’clock in the morning, Coral’s sister drives me home.  I hang up my coat, put away my cell phone and wallet, lock up the house, gear down and climb into bed with Coral.

I wake up in the morning, go into the kitchen to get a pot of coffee going and to my shock and horror, someone… or some thing has shit smack dab in the middle of my kitchen floor.

I yell to Coral, “Coral!  Someone broke into our house last night and shit on the floor!  or like a dog maybe…”

“A dog didn’t shit on our floor, you did!”

“SWA?”

“Well it makes sense, you peed on the floor in the bedroom.”

wow… Coral had to fill me in on what happened in the middle of the night.

As I said, I rolled into the apartment a bit after 1AM, geared down and went to bed.  But what really happened shocks and frightens me.

Coral says she woke up at 4AM to see me sitting naked on a stack of CDs in the corner of our bedroom.  It was dark and all she could make out were eyes that looked like a raccoon’s at night and my hand pushing my penis down as I urinated on the floor.  She screamed at me, “what are you doing?”  I answered back matter of factly, “going to bathroom.”

“On the floor in the bedroom?”

“No.”

“well you are.”

That must have spooked me, she says I got up and ran out of the room like a naked jangly alien.  She said I went into the apartment and she could hear me crashing around and I was gone for some time.

I came back to the bedroom and crawled into bed like nothing happened.  Coral turns to me and asks, “why did you pee on the bedroom floor?”

I reply, “no I didn’t, don’t be crazy.”

“Yes you did, I saw you.  Right over there,” and points to the corner of the bedroom.  I get back out of bed, turn on the light and investigate.  Would you look at that, I peed on the floor of my own bedroom.  I then go back to the kitchen and return with a cloth and start cleaning.  Go back to bed.

I remember none of this.  I woke up this morning and was genuinely horrified to find dumps on my kitchen floor.  Coral said she can only imagine that it happened while I was crashing around when I ran out of the bedroom. She speculates that maybe I thought I was outside squatting.  But still, questions remain, are there any more surprises around our home? Is my sleepwalking something to expect in the future? And if so, can there be a way to corral me into the bathroom to do my deeds, or even a bucket somewhere?

DayQuil is a hell of a drug.

I am not one to get blackout drunk, but there have been times in my past where I’ve put on similar productions and almost all of them begin with me being sick, taking cold medicine, then drinking.

Many moons ago, my band had a show at The Cobalt and I was sick.  I swallowed a variety pack of sudafeds, DayQuil and whatever else was around.  The band headed down to the Cobalt and I started pouring back their cheap draught beer.  By the time it was Smut Peddlings Sam’s turn to rock the stage I was not me anymore, I was some other creature.  I don’t remember the set at all.  But it was one of the few shows we taped and it was both horrible and heroic.  I spent much of the set doing one of two things, screaming obscenities at the skids and punks watching our set or laying on my back doing a Jim Morrison free form thing.  It was terrible.

At one point, some guy was heckling the band and I stopped down and started calling him a Megadeth wanna be mother fucker or something.  He whipped out his dick and started flopping it about.  Then he picked up a chair and threw it at me.  So I grabbed the chair and hurled it back at him and the bouncers came and peace was restored.  Set continued.  I sang lyrics to songs we didn’t have, different words to the wrong song. A real rock and roll tragedy.

After the set I went up to Wendy the manager to apologize and she said, “are you kidding?  That was great!” and handed me a pile of money.

***

Then there was that time I was down at the beach in Gordon Head… but I think I’ve told enough embarrassing stories for a night.

Go with yourself.

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