You keep your eyes clenched closed. You know from the dull aching that thrums through your head that you are not ready for light. Your mouth is dry, your tongue feels large and fuzzy, alien. Your hearing feels muffled, as if underwater. You are sitting, but you don't know on what or where. Your trousers feel wet. They are soaked in urine. You don't know whether the urine is yours or someone else's. You don't know which is the lesser of these two evils, and consequently, don't know which you're hoping to be true. You allow your eyes to open a fraction and the first rays of light to pierce your vision. You remember where you are.
You are in a nightclub bathroom. You have fallen asleep. You have fallen asleep in a nightclub bathroom in Malaga and everyone has gone home because the club is closed. You feel the hot molten shame wash over you like your own - or someone else's - urine did not hours before.
This is the scenario* which one man discovered himself in recently.
People in an adjacent building to the Theatro Club in Malaga reported hearing the sounds of yelling and banging from inside the club. "So what?" I hear you ask, "if you've signed up to reside beside a nightclub such is the lot you've chosen for yourself."
All very true. However, the noises were reported by office-workers and - instead of being heard from the club during typical clubbing hours - they heard the noises while on their way to work. Staff from the venue were contacted to free the man who had fallen asleep in the bathrooms.
While being trapped overnight in a nightclub could rightly be considered many people's personal idea of hell on earth, the man clearly took things in his stride, as evinced by the fact that he emerged still clutching a drink.
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Good god.
*Legally, I am here obliged to point out that the whole bit about urine is little more than speculation on my part.