I was bunking down on the leather sofa in the living room. LindaLindaListen (LLL) was sleeping on the carpet behind the couch. Masinga was in the porch and Too Much and Grandpa were in the dining room.
The Deb and the Dale were supposed to be sleeping in the Ark, and Steven and Mayor were in the spare bedroom, with the bed. I was considering using this space as a place to complain about American culture and the undue value we put on the archaic and paternalistic state of matrimony, so that single people have to sleep on couches while married people get beds and privacy, but...perhaps its better if the romance of the Mayor and Steven is kept behind closed doors. (Wink, wink).
Grandpa wanted to go out to the concert. I can't remember who was playing but they were a pretty big band and he was going to meet his friend downtown, so he got ready and took the Jeep back to the Expo grounds.
I nestled down on the couch, put my eye mask on and tried to sleep. In my 6 ragbys I've never had a good night sleep before the first day. There is too much going on, too much anxiety, and on this night, too many beavers running amuck!
The Deb and Dale stayed up with our hosts, and they proceeded to drink a bunch of whisky. And you know what they like in their whisky? Ice and diet Dr. Pepper. That means every 15-45 minutes the door to the back porch would open and someone would stumble inside, rustling around in the fridge, with increasing ineffectivity, and then slam back out the door. Like. Fucking. Clockwork.
I don't know when they eventually called it a night, but I do know that just about the time when it seemed like all was peaceful, Grandpa came home and proceeded to settle into the noisiest, rustliest sleeping pad in the whole world. Crinkle! Zing! Scraaatch!
There was no sleep in SUX-ville for this beaver that night.
I fell into a light doze around 2am, and when my alarm sounded, well before dawn, I was cursing my team. Thankfully, the Gods of Ragby had sweet vengeance on their minds as well!
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