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This week’s column is a bit different, which is why I had to take my time in
thinking on how to do it. That and my boss was out of town for the first few
days so I had some extra duties to cover. Oh, and we had some corporate
restructuring going on, as well. For those of you who have never been
through that, it's a pretty stressful time.
Back to this week being different, it has become apparent to me over the
years that I am a sleepwalker. It doesn’t happen every night, or even every
week for that matter. But every so often it just happens out of the blue. Now
how can I really write about something I did in my sleep. I’d like to open up
part of the column for those who were there to respond to what they
remember of the incidents. I’ll do my best to give my best account of the
occurrences.
It started when I was little. At the time, I wasn’t sure if I had a sleeping
disorder or an eating disorder. I’d wake up to the cold rush of air coming
from the fridge. Sometimes I was eating and sometimes I was just looking for
something. This usually happened between midnight and 3 am. My mom
caught me several times because she washes clothes really late at night. At
first, she thought I was awake and she’d talk to me. She says I’d respond
with a grunt or not at all. That’s when she started to figure things out.
These were the most innocent sleepwalking happenings.
One winter, I was at a swim meet in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. It was the state
championships and it was really, really cold outside (for Louisiana). We
were staying at a hotel where you had to have an electronic key just to get
into your building. Well, at some point during the night, I walked out of the
room, and proceeded to walk outside. I woke up just as the door clicked
shut. Now I was screwed. I couldn’t merely knock on my own door and have
my parents wake up to let me in. It was either knock on the building door
and wake the entire wing, or walk through the cold across the lot in my
undies and make that call to my folks from the lobby. I chose the lobby. I’m a
swimmer, what do I care if someone sees me in my skivvies? Oh, and the
next night, I almost did it again, but I caught myself just as I walked out of my
room and kept the door from closing.
Here’s where the fun begins. I was at a convention in St. Louis for the 31
Ambassadors, a student/alumni organization, in the summer of 2002. I was
rooming with my friends Billy and Jimmy. What happened here all seemed to
be a dream, but a nice security guard cleared things up for me after it was
all said and done. This is what I recall. I remember being in the stairwell at
some point and walking through a meat freezer. This hotel was in a mall and
had several restaurants. I also recall walking through the mall and the hotel
weight room. This all seems to me like a dream. I woke up standing next to
the pool in a total state of disarray. I looked across the pool and saw 2
security guards with walkie talkies and I flagged them down. They rushed to
me in a hurry like they were after me. They were. They escorted me back
inside the hotel weight room and sat me down to ask me what the hell I was
doing. I proceeded to tell them I had no idea what I was doing there and that
I had somewhat of a history of sleepwalking. The guard had been tracking
me down through the hotel for almost 2 hours. I kept slipping in and out of
their closed camera network. He had seen me go into the meat locker and
wandering around the mall. This brought me to the realization that I wasn’t
just dreaming all of that. I was freaked out. After he had everything
checked out and found out I was a resident of the hotel and not some crazy
guy who somehow got in, he let me back in my room. I saw him several
times over the next few days and he just chuckled as I walked past him with a
smile.
The next 2 stories include the founder of the Rock Pile and his brother
Zach. I was roommates with Mad Pup (founder) at the time and his little
brother Zach “Weedeater” Madden was visiting. He was camped out on the
couch in the den. We all went to bed that night after playing some football
on the Playstation. The next morning, I woke up on the couch. I was very
confused. I went to my bed to sleep and I wake up on the couch. So where
was Zach? He was in my bed! No dreams this time, I don’t remember a
thing. This is where I need Mad Pup and the Weedeater to fill in the blanks.
WEEDEATER: I went to sleep on the couch and in the middle of the night, T-
Bone was sleepwalking and came and laid down on the couch in front of
me. I said, "What are you doing?" But he didn't wake up, so I got off the
couch and went to sleep in his bed.
MAD PUP: I remember that Zach had to be on a plane at 6:30 the next
morning, and I went to wake him up on the couch. That's when I noticed
that Zach wasn't there, but there was a T-Bone-shaped person under the
blanket on the couch. Sure enough, when I went and looked in T-Bone's
bedroom, there was my little brother.
The other incident with Mad Pup came last December while I was visiting
from Dallas for a wedding. This time I was parked on the couch. When I
moved out, the Pup had moved into my old room. At some point in the night,
I must have gone back in time and remembered my old room. I woke up in
Pup’s room next to his bed on the floor. I need details because that’s all I
remember.
MAD PUP: Well, first of all, I think you forgot the funniest part of that story.
Somehow you ended up wearing my pajama pants, and you had no memory
of ever putting them on. I just remember going to bed and leaving you and
Kitty asleep in the living room. After I had been in my bedroom for about half
an hour, you came stumbling blindly into the room (I always sleep with my
door open, but when T-Bone was living with us, he kept his shut at night).
Instinct took over and you immediately shut the door. Then you looked
around the room like you were searching for something for about a minute
or so. I guess whatever it was, you gave up on it and just decided to crash
on the floor. Once you settled on the floor and made a nice little pillow out
of a pile of dirty clothes, I got up and opened the door. I just didn't want
your girlfriend to wake up and find out you were in my room in the middle of
the night with the door closed (I never would have lived that one down; it
would have been about like the time T-Bone got hit on by Brant's brother at
the Corner Bar). Anyway, I guess you didn't like me opening the door,
because about 15 minutes later, you got back up and went to the bathroom
and came back and shut the door again. That's about the last thing I
remember. I woke up again a couple hours later, and you were gone.
When I came in the living room the next morning, you were wearing my pants.
So you can see, I have several sleepwalking stories. I never know when
they will hit, but the last few have led to some somewhat funny ribbings on
my behalf. It might be dangerous, but it leads to some pretty good stories.
So next time you have me over to your house and late at night I mosey on
into your bedroom….I’m not looking for nookie, I’m just sleepwalking.
Readers, I need your feedback and YOUR recollections of these stories. My
mailbag is open.
Until next time, throw up a “T” for…
T-BONE!
