Creature Comforts

The cabin in which we celebrated Bruiser’s husband’s birthday was more like a 4-story mansion and was very posh. Due to the rather remote location (our vehicle couldn’t make it up the hill, so we required a ‘pick-up’….maybe that is why they call them ‘pick-up trucks’), we were invited to spend the night. Assuming it would be a small log unit with wooden floors and, based on our experiential learning, we thought we would be ‘roughing it,’ so we each brought a sleeping bag and On My Terms brought a blow-up mattress.

Once we finally made it inside, Bruiser asked if we minded sleeping in the theater room, in the basement. We didn’t mind and took our belongings downstairs to find we had a ‘private’ bathroom and the best seats/floor in the house should we choose to watch the very fitting movie On My Terms brought, The 40-Year-Old Virgin. Very cozy and comfort, indeed.

We decided it might be best to set up the air mattress prior to imbibing and we were quite surprised to see how much the mattress was like my aunt, very easy. “You know, I’ve blown one of these up before…..with my mouth,” On My Terms proudly told me. “Impressive skill set. I can’t do that or wink. Luckily this one has a pump.” “A pump with an easy to use comfort button for inflation,” On My Terms replied while pressing the comfort button. “Just like Bruiser’s panties,” I told her.

With our beds made we joined the festivities and did what we did best – entertain. At one point in the evening, when I was belting out a karaoke tune, one of the male guests approached me, “Where are you sleeping tonight?” “Here,” I replied and continued singing, “Mucho mistrust love’s gone behind….it’s from the Phillipines, the words are different.” He wanted to get back to our discussion and asked, “With me and my wife?” “No, with On My Terms. Our bed is made and we’re going to lie in it.”

Mid-party, Bruiser advised us she had checked on our accommodations and the mattress, “wasn’t looking too good.” On My Terms and I assessed the situation and discovered we hadn’t closed one of the valves. With that discovered, we remedied the situation and returned to the main floor, where the same male guest requested that On My Terms become better friends with he and his wife. Like me, she respectfully declined.

As one can imagine, singing, dancing, drinking and turning down swingers can be exhausting, so On My Terms and I decided to go to bed/air mattress. Once again, we found it like the swinging guest, deflated. On My Terms pressed the comfort button, we got in our sleeping bags, turned on The 40-Year-Old Virgin (not to be confused with us ‘turning on the in-his-twenties swinger’), and fell asleep. Not soon after that On My Terms opted to move to a couch because the mattress air was again decreasing.

I pressed the comfort button and moved to the center of the mattress in hopes that this would help eliminate or reduce deflation. I’m not sure how much time passed, but I was soon awoken by On My Terms telling me, “Push the comfort button, push the comfort button! You’re going to suffocate if you don’t do it. Quick! It’s surrounding you!” Sure enough, the air in the mattress was quickly deflating beneath me and the sides of the mattress we’re rapidly closing in around me – like an air taco.

Even in a very posh cabin, on an air mattress with a comfort button, it is easy to miss the creature comforts of urban living.