Roomies, not Roofies
Not since college have I slept four women in a room, two to a bed — and usually it was under the influence of Thunderbird and Night Train Express.
So you can imagine my distress when — at the tender age of 47 –I was planning to room with three other grown women I didn’t even know at a conference in New York.
I arrived one night later than the others, so bed assignments were already arranged and I would be sleeping in a slender double with a lovely woman named Sarah.
We warned each other of our sleep peculiarities, among them; sleep apnea, snoring, tooth grinding, leg twitching, insomnia and the odd Tourette’s-like sleep exclamations.
(Some of my most infamous ones, “When you’re dead I will!” or “She’s not coming to my wedding!” or, “But what about the fucking gecko?”)
And so Sarah and I settled in.
She with her sleep apnea mask, and me with my dental guard and 5 milligrams of Ambien. Both of us pajamaed to the hilt.
An army of Sultans could not have deflowered us, swaddled as we were.
The bed was unexpectedly comfortable, with just the right amount of firm but soft. The pillows were neither flattening beneath the cheek nor cranking of the neck in a 360-degree contortion a la Linda Blair. They were just right.
Sarah slept quietly and she smelled good.
Quickly, I drifted off to sleep, dreaming inexplicably of pickled herring, when I woke abruptly to find Sarah’s masked face staring down at me.
She was telling me something I couldn’t make out because of her sleep apnea mask, until I realized that my feet were on her side of the bed attempting to molest her feet.
I had her right heel trapped by both my sets of toes and was fondling it.
“Thhorry,” I burbled through my night guard, “Tho thorry.” I retracted my wayward, wandering feet and sunk back to sleep.
In my dreams, I was a spy. Bad guys were chasing me in the desert and shooting at me. I executed James Bond parkour-like maneuvers off of cliffs and rocks and landed in a body of water where I pounced on a water wienie being pulled behind a power motor boat. I hung on for dear life as I was dragged through the wake and the spume of the boat.
Someone was calling my name, only it wasn’t Bond, James Bond. It was, “Shannon. Shannon!”
I awoke to discover Sarah peering down at me once more. I was spooning her. “Oh my gotthhh, I’m tho thorry,” I exclaimed.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully, but I’m fairly certain Sarah wore a chastity belt our remaining two nights, just to be safe.
Tell me your challenges you have when sleeping with women.
24 thoughts on “Sleeping With Women”
Im sorry I just could`nt do that.. If I had to be in a room with 3 other guys? I would sleep in the chair LOL. I guess I would be afraid of Letting one go… or what happened to you,waking up in a spooning position.!! No Thank you
For some reason these ladies weren’t flatulent. They smelled good. Is that the difference between men and women?
Double beds are not for sleeping two up. I can’t even sleep with my husband in one. Of course he moves around like he’s on fire, but still.
I had Ambien. I could sleep in a tree with a hungry cougar with Ambien. And by cougar I was talking about the large cat variety.
You’re always hillarious! So bravo to share room with four strange women!
Thanks Tania — I kept asking them to marry me but I had no takers.
I’m a horrible sleeper. I’d be clinging to the edge of the mattress, limbs dangling… tough enough to manage zzzs with the man in my life!
I met Anne five years ago in a double bed in Huntington Beach, California and I’ve been traveling around sleeping with her at conferences ever since. Meeting up people on the internet and sleeping with them is probably a terrible way to meet men, but I’ve found that it’s a great way to make girl friends.
i would do it counting backwards from 200 moving in and out of light sleep, praying for daylight. a long time friend from h.s. i haven’t seen in 20+ yrs helped me move and we had to share my full size bed but little did i know she popped an ambien and snored all night. i had to move to the couch…..and spent all night counting backwards from 200…….
I probably snored like a little brown bear. I was afraid to ask.
I’ll sleep with you anytime. And I won’t even mind the spooning. 😉
You know I prefer taking showers with you oh queen of The Mists of Avalon!
Your feet were probably cold – that’s what wakes my husband up. I’m trying to remember the last time I shared a bed with another woman. Oh, wait – it was with my friend when we were driving from Chicago to Washington, DC. I remember feeling a little awkward because she’s gay and I’m not, but it was really no big deal. We were (and are still) in love with the people who became our spouses later.
Actually I think my feet were probably sweaty. Ack.
In high school my best friend at the time and I would have sleepovers all the time. She hated and dreaded it because I would rub my feet on her all night. You’d think she woulda stopped coming over, but alas maybe she liked my foot to leg massages?
I was a big sleepover snuggler too.
My best friend,that I have had since the 5th grade, and I still laugh about when we were in high school and we would sleep in the same bed she would always wind up spooning me. The problem always was, she wet the bed until she was about 14. Oh well, I still love her and would sleep through it. The strange thing was that when she slept at my house she wouldn’t do it. Only at her house.
A fortified wine reference. That’s funny. Also sad.
I balance upon the beam of ecstasy and “Ironweed”
I miss you!
Oh, the conference cohabitation. I’m not even 5 feet tall, so I try to just claim only 1/3 of the bed in an effort to avoid making a bad first impression. You are all very brave to make such fast friends. It sounds like y’all had a good time at the conference. Jealous!
Karen — You sound like the perfect conference roommate. xo S
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