**Editors' Note: This week's guest post comes from "Settles for Better" and thank god for it because after reading this doozy of a story, we hope whoever SFB is, he or she does settle for better.**
It would be a few years before I learned the extent to which alcohol affects the sleeping mind. But when I had my phantom peeing incident, I figured that I was the only person who acted strangely after an evening of heavy drinking.
In college, I would sometimes sleep-walk to the wrong dorm room and promptly pass out in someone else's bed. I also had been known to sleep-sort through a friend's closet. I imagine I was looking for the perfect blouse.
After college, these events happened less, as my partying waned.
That was until I came to Bend. It was three years ago and I soon realized that me + bad date + alcohol = nightly wanderings. Or worse.
I had been dating the guy for a couple weeks. A friend set us up. He was older and a successful businessman in his field. A little lacking in the hair department, but heavy in the brains department. Almost immediately, I knew I should have liked him more. I knew other girls did. But it just didn't click. And like the immature person that I was/am, I continued seeing him, even though I was only in it for the free dinners and drinks.
One night, it was all over.
After a nice dinner, we went back to his place to watch a movie. I sat on his clean white couch and proceeded to drink a whole bottle of red wine. He barely had one glass. Every time he would try to put the moves on me, I needed to get up and refill. We played this game until he caught on. That was when I got very tired and needed sleep immediately.
He offered his bed. I hopped in, not even bothering to take off my boots. Apparently, my refusal to take off any article of clothing greatly offended him. Some sort of drama ensued, ending with him turning on his light to read some silly sci-fi book and me pretending to sleep. Then I did sleep and I dreamed about peeing.
It was one of those blurry dreams where I couldn't find the bathroom, it was too dark, I couldn't see, so I sat down to pee in his closet. Then, he noticed and pointed me toward the bathroom, where I think I found a toilet.
A woke up a few hours later, in darkness and suddenly scared. Oh, my god, I thought. And then a wave of nausea passed over me as I realized that my alcohol-soaked memory couldn't tell the difference between a drunken dream and a drunken reality.
Did I just pee in that guy's closet?
The world may never know, because I got the H out of there and never spoke to him again.