Last night, Cowboy and I met Nan and Katie K at a local bar for a friend who was in a “celebrity bartending” contest. The plan was to have a couple drinks to show our support and then go home. This is what happened instead:
Nikol has 2 tall beers.
Cowboy has 4 tall beers and at least 4 shots.
In an hour and a half.
Now, this my friends, is obviously a sign that Cowboy is going to be, if not already, intoxicated. So, being the good girlfriend I am, I stop drinking and drive home. This is where it gets tricky…he is talking like he’s sober, he’s not swaying back and forth, he’s not slurring his words or stumbling. He seems completely fine…
…until 2 o’clock in the morning when I hear a man peeing. It is too close to be coming from the bathroom, which confuses me. Maybe it’s rain?
No. It is pee. Cowboy’s pee. And he is standing in front of my dresser, completely asleep, pissing…like he’s out in front of a motherf*%&ing fire hydrant.
I pop up and push him with my foot, “What the HELL are you doing?! Go to the BATHROOM!” He doesn’t wake up or look up, he just walks to the bathroom…peeing on the floor the whole way there.
At this point I am gagging and swearing him to Hades as I clean up his urine off my wood dresser. I decide maybe I should go check to see if he made any of it into the actual toilet. I find him curled up on the living room floor talking to himself about “waterboxes in Lorain”, whatever the hell that means. So I leave him there.
He comes back in the bedroom at 5am wondering why he was on the living room floor.
“You were sleepwalking, and talking…so I left you there. P.S. You pissed on my dresser.”
When I signed on for this Boyfriend thing, I didn’t realize that it involved potty training.