The Alcohol Memoirs by Misty Moreton

Author:Misty Moreton
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781633935648
Publisher: Koehler Books
Published: 2015-11-25T16:00:00+00:00

I love it! Very tame and very refreshing. Misty

SLEEPING TALES

I’ve slept on many a couch in my days as a party animal. I’ve slept under a table, across a pair of bar stools, in a truck bed, in an empty rental home, and on a staircase, amongst other safe and not so safe places . . . even a ditch one time. Most times it was planned, and sometimes it was a surprise that I survived the night, as is the case with one of my more impressive mishaps.

This night was surely a blur and possibly insignificant, though I can’t really remember. At this point in my life, I used to stay at my buddy’s house in town, which was about a fifteen-minute walk from greater downtown. As was the usual, I crossed the river, wandered up the darkened path of their drive, let myself in, and—they were cool with that sorta thing—took off my shoes and pants, pulled the blanket from the top of the couch and slept sound as a baby, as usual.

Morning crept in and the sun shone beautifully on me as I drearily opened my eyes and adjusted to the new day. In plain view, there on top of the fridge, was an elephant statue that I’d never seen before. And the couch was facing the wrong way. The coffee table was full of weird odds and ends, and even the walls were a different color! Keep in mind that I was still half paralyzed in the wake of a full-on power drunk, so I was not keen on moving, or making a fucking sound . . .

Worse yet, I could hear two people milling about, the way you do before work. Clearly, I was not where I thought I was. The world closed in and I felt trapped like a barn cat, and my pants weren’t on! How could I run? Where?! I was still hazy; how could I explain . . . ?

Sometimes, luck is on your side. I could decipher these people’s conversation a little. They weren’t mad—lost, but not mad. Finally, they asked where I had come from. They were young and out all night themselves. Each one thought the other had set me up on the couch after late-night drinking. They even asked if they could give me a ride home.

“No, thanks. I’ll just be getting my pants now,” I said to them. I walked onto their porch and collected my bearings. I was two houses away from my bud’s house. I went and crashed on the correct couch this time.

Nice people.

Anyone who knows me knows this story already. I’m sorta famous that way. Moral of the story: Remember to keep a blanket on your sofa. You never know when I might show up.

ANONYMOUS, WEST SLOPE, OREGON

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