Goddamn phone!! Why is the ringer so loud? My head is killing me! Oooh, I think I'm going to be sick! I shouldn't have had that sixth tequila shot. Will someone answer the fucking phone?
I clawed my way from beneath the warmth and safety of the blanket and looked at the clock. It was hard to see through the haze of my hangover, but I was pretty sure the fuzzy blue numbers said 3:06.
"Who the fuck is calling me at 3:00 on a Saturday morning?" I thought. "Oh, wait... that's not my clock... that's not my phone either. This isn't my place. Where the hell am I?"
The phone finally stopped ringing. I sighed in bliss at the sound of nothing and snuggled back beneath the covers. I'd worry about whose bed I was in later. Just as I got comfortable and could feel the lure of sleep fall over me, I heard something another noise. It wasn't as loud as the phone, but it wasn't silence either, which was the only thing I really wanted to hear right then. I listened as the high-pitched beeping continued. Even in my condition, I recognized the muffled tune as Habanera from opera, Carmen.
"I love that song," I thought. "My cell phone plays that tune... wait... I think that IS my cell phone."
I looked around and saw the tiny red light flashing like a beacon in a sea of clothes. I reached for it, trying to stay under the covers as much as possible. I grabbed it and fumbled with the buttons, which were way too small to read in my condition.
I clawed my way from beneath the warmth and safety of the blanket and looked at the clock. It was hard to see through the haze of my hangover, but I was pretty sure the fuzzy blue numbers said 3:06.
"Who the fuck is calling me at 3:00 on a Saturday morning?" I thought. "Oh, wait... that's not my clock... that's not my phone either. This isn't my place. Where the hell am I?"
The phone finally stopped ringing. I sighed in bliss at the sound of nothing and snuggled back beneath the covers. I'd worry about whose bed I was in later. Just as I got comfortable and could feel the lure of sleep fall over me, I heard something another noise. It wasn't as loud as the phone, but it wasn't silence either, which was the only thing I really wanted to hear right then. I listened as the high-pitched beeping continued. Even in my condition, I recognized the muffled tune as Habanera from opera, Carmen.
"I love that song," I thought. "My cell phone plays that tune... wait... I think that IS my cell phone."
I looked around and saw the tiny red light flashing like a beacon in a sea of clothes. I reached for it, trying to stay under the covers as much as possible. I grabbed it and fumbled with the buttons, which were way too small to read in my condition.