Story Time

I know I said in my previous blog that it is possible to fit two people into one bunk, but I feel I should warn you that it does take practice.  The best warnings, in my opinion, are true stories.  So here is my true story about my first ever joint bunk night.

First things first, you need to understand what exactly I mean by bunk.  A tour bus bunk is roughly 7ft long by maybe 2-3 feet wide.  You have a ceiling above you that normally hosts a small tv screen.  This enables you to watch whatever is being watched in the front lounge in the privacy of your coffin, if you are feeling anti-social that night.  Other amenities include a pillow, mattress cover, a comforter (light weight) and a curtain that separates you from the rest of the world.  Oh I forgot (I just went and took some photos) there is also a small dome light, a pouch (so you can keep things handy) and a phone?  I am not sure if the phone works, I have never personally tried it…but you have one there.

Now that you can fully understand what a bunk is let’s get back to my story.  My husband and I decide to try and share a bunk one night, as we thought it could be romantic.  Neither of us are small people.  I am 5’11 and athletic, he is 6’2 and the same.  So, that was challenge one.   After some maneuvering we finally get to a spooning position that we think we can both live with, being that movement is pretty much not an option once someone goes to sleep.  I am on the inside facing the bus wall and my husband is on the outside with his back to the curtain.

All is going as well as can be expected, considering you can not move at all, when suddenly I lose the ability to breathe.  No, it is not an asthma attack nor any type of allergic reaction, it is simply the fact that my brain has decided not to function in such extremely tight quarters.  I open my eyes hoping this will help, but all I see are different bright spots in various shades of color passing before my eyes (most likely from lack of oxygen).

I try to move, but there is the passed out sleeping body of my husband draping on me rendering me even more trapped.  This is not good for my breathing situation.  I have only one action left- I shove my husband through the curtain, out of my bunk, and into the hallway.  Luckily, we are on the bottom bunk.  This wakes him up (obviously) and I hear a plaintative, “Honey?”

 Meanwhile, I am still trying to capture my breath in my coffin, I mean bunk.  Once my husband was gone it was much easier to breathe and after a few seconds (with my husband waiting patiently in the hallway in his pjs) I called out, “Its ok now, you can come back in”.  And we slept happily, if not a little fitfully, through the rest of the night.

THE END