I once started an argument with someone in their sleep.
I'm not proud. I'm not bragging. I'm simply just stating a fact.
I was about 16 years old at the time, staying with my best friend for the weekend at his dad's house in Poughkeepsie, NY. I remember his dad's girlfriend's son (I'll call him Crackhead Craig, which I'll explain in some other post) who was old enough to drive and buy alcohol (that second part is not a key detail for this particular story, though), had taken us through a tour of the more seedier parts of town in his rusted out Ford Tempo. We witnessed tightly dressed prostitutes leaning into the windows of parked cars. It was all very surreal, and it felt like we were getting away with something (one of them even looked at us as we slowly drove past). It wasn't something a small town teenager was supposed to be seeing in real life, up close and in 3D. Anyway, none of that is really part of this story, just a funny detail I remember about the trip.
My best friend's little brother was there. We were all camped out on the living room floor, stuffed with pizza, chips, and soda. His brother had fallen asleep first. While my buddy and I were discussing our tour from earlier that evening, his little brother sat up, eyes wide open, and told us defiantly that we could not borrow his skateboard because it didn't have wheels on it. I told him that his board had square wheels and I didn't want to borrow it. He argued that it didn't have square wheels, but I insisted. The conversation began to get heated. He would never put square wheels on his skateboard; that wouldn't make sense. I told him I was going to throw his square wheels away and replace them with triangular wheels if he didn't let me borrow his board. This went on for quite some time, getting more and more ridiculous as it continued. He finally turned over and went silent again, apparently returning to a more peaceful, non-argumentative slumber. My buddy and I had a good chuckle and resumed watching the MTV Michael Jackson marathon and discussing things teenage boys were not supposed to discuss.
This wasn't the first, or last, time we screwed around with his sleepwalking/sleeptalking little brother. I remember one time when I slept over, he zombiewalked down the stairs to their kitchen and asked where the sink was. We told him that we moved it into the living room. He looked for it there; couldn't find it. "Oh, sorry. We moved it again. It's in your mom's room." It wasn't there, either. "Where is it?!" he demanded. "Oh yeah, that's right. The sink is upstairs in your bed!" We didn't see him again. He must have found it or something.
Disclaimer: Don't do this to people. I'm sure it's morally wrong in some way. But if you do (and again, I'm saying you shouldn't), have some fun with it! Make it a game. See how weird you can get it. It's a blast! (And wrong.)
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