This is a true tale of drunkeness and Norwegians.

So there we were, at a music convention in Llandudno of all places, staying at a quaint little B&B with something of a dodgy locking mechanism on the bedroom door.

Music was played, alcohol was consumed, much merriment was had and finally we staggered back to our hotel room, slammed the door behind us and collapsed into bed. Several hours later…

Cider (waking up): Grunt… moan… urgh… (ponders to self) Why is Carl on the wrong side of the bed? Huh. Why is Carl also on the right side of the bed? Why are there two Carls? Wait…… (shakes the Carl on the right side of the bed). Carl… Carl… there’s someone in the bed.

Carl: Urgh…

Cider: Carl… Carl… THERE’S SOMEONE IN THE BED!

Carl: Urgh, grunt.. shut up woman, you’re dreaming.

Cider: Erm… nope. There’s really, really someone in the bed.

Carl: (sits up) THERE’S SOMEONE IN THE BED!

Cider: Uh huh.

Carl: (shakes person in bed) Oi! Get the fuck out of our bed.

Stranger: (waking up… looks around) This is not my bed. This is not my room.

Cider/Carl: Uh huh.

Stranger: (gets out of bed. See’s Cider’s skinny jeans on floor. Tries to put them on. Gets them to his knees). This is not my pants.

Cider/Carl: Uh huh.

Stranger: (spots Carl’s pants hanging over the back of a chair. Starts to put them on).

Carl: Get get the fuck out of my pants and out of the room.

Stranger: (fiddling with door lock) This is not good lock.

Stranger Exits.

Cider stares at Carl in disbelief that he was more pissed by the stranger putting on his pants than being in bed with his girlfriend, while Carl locks the door ensuring no one else can try and steal his trousers.

Cider and Carl fall back on bed laughing.

Later that morning. Over breakfast. General chatter:

Guest 1: You know, someone tried my door last night.

Guest 2: Yeah, me too.

Guest 3: And mine:

Cider/Carl: Yeah, someone tried OUR BED last night. (surreal Goldilocks moment) (describes night time adventure to wrapt hotel guests)

Guest 4: Ooh, I think that was one of those Norwegian guys that were at the convention. They were drinking Vodka. They were REALLY drunk.

Cider/Carl: Uh huh.

Investigations lead to the following conclusions:

Two Norwegian brothers got very drunk on (comparatively) cheap Vodka. Return to their room and drift off to harmonious sleep. Our Norwegian wakes up with a desperate need to pee. Heads to bathroom. Forgets where his room is. Tries all doors until he finds one open (stupid dodgy locking mechanism) and climbs into bed oblivious of the sleeping couple the bed, and the rest is well, up there!

The moral of the story? Always ensure your hotel room door is fully secure before retiring in case of wondering Norwegians.

Happy New Year.

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