When Leo suggested a spontaneous trip to San Francisco this past weekend, I knew the sleeping arrangements would be tight. There were a lot of friends (Leroy & girlfriend, Paxton, Veronica, Collin, Kevin) staying in the two bedroom apartment. Too many bodies, not enough beds.
On Saturday night, after returning back from that house party, Leo took a girl into the bedroom and I passed out on the large, fluffy couch in the living room. And man, it was good.
Of course, when Veronica came crashing through the doors with Paxton hours later... she "calmly" stirred me from my slumber to remind me that she had, in fact, called "dibs" on the couch earlier that night.
I grumbled, grabbed a thin blanket from the closet and retreated to another room of the house where a tiny love seat was waiting for me. No one could have slept there but me (ahhhh, being 5'3"), but it was still a slightly uncomfortable squeeze.
I laid awake for a few moments, trying to figure out the best way to angle the blanket so it'd cover my entire body and my thoughts turned to the politics of people accommodating couples in these situations.
Think about it. Couples always get away with that shit. They always get the best spots during away games.
9 out of 10 times, the hosts save the prime spots for the couple (or you can guilt them into it). They feel obligated to let the couple sleep together:
"Oh well, So@24 and Lynn can get the bedroom." And then everyone else has to fend for themselves, trying to decide which piece of floor is best to pass out on. Which drunken friend is not going to try and spoon you while your face is smashed up against the leg of a coffee table at 3 in the morning?
Ahhh I miss those days.
When you're single, your ass gets demoted. If it's a full house, your ass isn't getting the bedroom or even prime couch that can easily fit two.
Just an observation.
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