Time for another McAdventure… this time we will take the way back machine to 1994 and Bloomington, IN. Our scene unfolds in the quiet dorm room of Mike McShea. Having a morning class on a Tuesday in February, young Mr. McShea had opted not to go out on the drinking excursion that his roommate had left on hours earlier. So shortly before midnight, I turned in for what I expected to be an uninterrupted night of sleep but unfortunately the drinking gods had another plan in mind…..
I should tell you that shortly before this event occurred, we had rearranged our dorm room to take more advantage of our limited space. This caused my bed to be located in a closer proximity to where my roommates bed had been a week before. So back to our story:
Having fallen asleep I was half-awakened by the fumbling of the door knob/lock as my roommate tried to gain access to our room. Thinking to myself "Man, he must be really drunk tonight!" I rolled over facing away from the door so the light of the hallway would not add to my already slightly awakened state. Finally hearing the door come open, I heard my roommate scold the door for it's inaccessibility and then shut the door eliminating the fleeting light that had entered from the hallway. Not wanting to wake up fully I, purposely failed to acknowledge my roommates drunken inquiry of my consciousness and assumed he would fall into his bed and sleep until he found his lost sobriety. That's, as they say, what I get for assuming.
At this point I heard my roommate stumble towards the far corner of the room as if he was lost. Again, trying to hold on to whatever REM level of sleep I had previously been in, I hoped that he would decide to sleep in the corner and we would have a good laugh about it in the morning. Again, I was clearly not in sync with the gods of drunken revelry as I began to hear the distinct sound of urine hitting the floor. Not wanting to believe what I was hearing I shouted "Unnamed Person, are you pissing in the corner of the room?". His response was quick and unintelligible "Fwhata macha re bachas" was his reply.
Now at this point, if I had the experience with drunk people that I have now, I would have gotten up and tried to handle the situation as best as possible but, I was both inexperienced with dealing with drunk people and angry with the situation so I refused to get out of bed and help my roommate find his bed. We will label this as a "learning moment".
I will also make an additional learning point: The floors in the Wright Quadrangle were tile. I learned about 6 hours from this point in the story that if you leave urine sit on tiles for that long, it has a chemical reaction with the tiles and strips them of their color leaving a clear area that was pissed on. I give you that knowledge free of charge to learn through my experience, and not your own.
Continuing on with our story, after barking at my roommate to get to bed, I heard him shamble over to his bed and then I heard what I thought was the either the sound of him undressing to get into bed or fight through a straight jacket. The effort seemed herculean so even to this day, I think he may have been struggling to free his hands from some sort of restraint. Happy that his amount of destruction and interruption of my night had ended, I let out a sigh to myself and prepared to now fall back to sleep. This moment of respite was quickly ended by the obvious compression of my mattress as I felt my overly friendly roommate attempting to get into my bed with me.
"What in the hell are you doing?" I said. "This is my bed, you are clearly drunk, get into your own bed" I added. Now, undaunted by my requests for him to get back to the correct bed, I felt the mattress compress as the full weight of my roommate was added to the edge of my bed. "That's it, I've had enough" I yelled. I was clearly wide awake and now fully angry so as I yelled at him I reached back to push him out of my bed and then to my horror, I discovered that he had not only decided that he was sleeping on his original side of the room but, he was doing so in his birthday suit. This was confirmed when I received a hand full of his buttocks while attempting to push him to the floor.
Jumping out of my bed with what might have been my best imitation of Spud Webb, I was now screaming "What the F$%^ are you doing?" "You are naked and in my bed… Get the F$%# out of my bed, man". During this olympic level dismount from my own bed and subsequent sprint to the door of my dorm room my screams must have been the incantation that was needed to bring my roommate back immediately to the world of the sobriety. Sheepishly he apologized by saying "Man, sorry… I didn't know where..sorry". I left the room to go make fun of him with anyone I could find awake on our hall at 2am on a Wednesday morning while he crawled back to his bed probably unaware that he would now be the center of ridicule for the next few days as his clear passion for his roommate was examined during every breakfast, lunch and dinner that we shared as a group.