I surface from my slightly drunk sleep, and scrutinize the darkness, unsure where I am. The bed seems rather small, so I initially think maybe I am visiting my parents, but I detect the smell of stale smoke, and it seems a bit odd that I am wearing a tie, and then I remember I am sleeping on my friend’s sofa after some post-work drinking.
I grope around on the floor, realising it is the sound of my phone buzzing in my shoe that has woken me.
“03:40 +1 Message” glows my phone.
I jab at the little buttons a few times to get to the message, feeling myself falling back asleep. Former-Housemate Eddie is messaging me, telling me that he is out with our miscreant of a friend Chaz Jensen, who is in the process of rioting somewhere in east London. Jensenating, I prefer to call it. My eyelids droop, and I am oddly comforted to think that as I lie there, someone somewhere is witnessing the horror of the Jensenator going Turbo. In my dream, I punch the guy from work that I hate right in the face.
4 weeks ago