SOMEONE’S BEEN SLEEPING IN HER BED
‘Nancy, there’s a man in my bed!” In her pyjamas, small dog tucked under one arm, my friend stood in the doorway, wide-eyed and not a little tremulous. Pre-dawn, I was only half awake myself. “What!” I said, “what do you mean ‘A man’?” We’d gone away for a girls’ night out, five of us and a small pup in training. Men were not supposed to feature in this getaway. I slid out of bed, trying not to wake my room-mate, and wondered if my friend had somehow lost it or was imagining things. We’d had quite a late night. I patted her free arm and, like conspirators, together we tip-toed down the corridor to her room. Sure enough, there was indeed a man in her bed — looking both extremely comfortable, and very asleep. He was surrounded by a cute, pink-paw-print blanket and all the other paraphernalia a girl and her new dog might need on a night out. By this time, another of our party had emerged. En route to the kitchen in search of tea, she had found us both standing staring at the man in the bed.
“I think we better wake him up,” I ventured. He was clearly not in a rush to go anywhere by himself. Gingerly, I gave the duvet a little nudge. “Excuse me,” I whispered. “I think you’re in the wrong bed.”
There’d have been more response from an Egyptian mummy. I tried again, raising my voice. “I say, I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.”
With absolutely no movement from the sleeping stranger, I turned the light on. An eyelid flicker. I tried the duvet nudge again. With the smallest of gestures, he raised one arm as if to invite me in. Eek!
By this time the others were starting to snicker. Then, all of a sudden, he was up, fully clothed (though they were crumpled), and mumbling something that may have been “Sorry.” He stumbled over the dog toys, out across the passage and into the lounge area, where he fell into a large, leather chair and promptly went back to sleep.
Near hysterical at this stage, the three of us took ourselves into the kitchen to release an explosion of girly giggles and put the kettle on.
But let me give you some context. We’d booked a seaside backpackers’ for our girls’ night out. This fellow was part of a band, whose members were all sharing a dorm room.
Earlier that evening, we’d met the band. And while our group had had a late night, it certainly wasn’t as late as theirs. After I’d gone to bed, I had heard some comings and goings, including an alarm going off at an ungodly hour, before I fell back asleep.
I didn’t register much more until the doorway moment. My friend had taken her pooch out for an early morning wee in the garden. It’s when she came back that she found the man in her bed.
We never found out exactly what had happened, but our guess is late-night boy must have got up at some point, maybe to answer the call of nature, and not firing on all four cylinders, had just stumbled back to the wrong bed.
Some blushes and apologies later that morning, all was forgiven and forgotten. Until the last of our party finally surfaced. On hearing the “man in my bed” story, she inspected her nails, lit another cigarette and said, “Well don’t tell anyone darling, they’ll all want one!”
Do you have a funny story about your travels? Send 600 words to travelmag@sundaytimes.co.za and include a recent photo of yourself.