I shared a hotel room with my guy best friend. And it really wasn't a big deal
Spare me the horror of your judgments, please!
You know you're sitting on a pretty chair, as far as your personal life is concerned, when you have rock-solid support system in the form of a 4 a.m. friend, who would cross oceans just to see you happy.
Fortunately, I have been a proud owner of that chair for the past eight years. My best friend is a superhuman, who possesses the mysterious power of always knowing what I want, when I'm upset, exactly why I'm upset, when I'm PMSing, and so on. All this without me having to say it, by the way.
So when someone as giving and amazing as this surreal human being, asks you to accompany them to their favourite artist's concert, how in the world can you say no?
No, this really wasn't about ehsaano ka bojh, it was about wanting to make my friend happy. Except, there were a couple of issues that needed some serious attention and thought.
First, the concert was based way out my home state. Second, none of my other friends seemed interested, so it was going to be just the two of us in one room. Why would that be a problem you ask? Because my best friend happens to be--a guy. Yes, I can call him my Barbie doll, my girlfriend, for all I want; but that really doesn't take away from the fact that at the end of the day, he has a penis.
You know when I bitched and sulked with him, without him ever complaining, I would almost take pride in the fact that I get along better with boys. Never before had I thought his sex would be an issue. But there I was struggling with the idea of sharing a room with him.
In all probability, you think that my reluctance was stemming out of trust issues or safety concerns. But I don't blame you for it. That's because firstly, I haven't exactly said much about my I-can-even-go-lingerie-shopping-with-my-bff equation with him; and secondly because I haven't mentioned problem number four, five, and six yet. Simply because, I also realized what they were once we reached our hotel.
I got my monthlies as soon as I set foot in the OUR room. Then, I had to attend a day-long outdoor concert with a super-heavy flow. And finally, the bed sheets in OUR room were of the purest white hue you could ever find. So it's not like I could simply sleep over my problems. Because you know what? I was shit scared of bleeding on those pristine white sheets!
What did I do to cope with it? For starters, I would change my sanitary napkin every half an hour. And every time I took a trip to the loo to do so, I would gift wrap the used napkins in heaps and heaps of toilet paper before disposing them off. Now that I think of it, I am pretty sure he thinks I eat paper. For heaven's sake, I finished almost fifty tissue rolls in two days. Also, my sleep was pretty much fucked on the first night. I would wake up every ten minutes just to make sure I wasn't lying in a pool of my blood.
As the trip ended I realized there was nothing to be worried about. In fact, he simply sensed my discomfort in spite of the best possible efforts to hide it (didn't I mention he was superhuman?) and handled it the way I never thought a guy could. Not only did he make sure I had my pain killers and healthy meals on time; he even complimented me on being able to pull off an entire concert without letting him know of my discomfort and those killer period cramps.
Oh, and if you're wondering whether sharing a room with a boy I am that close to led to us having sex. The answer is big NO. How's that possible you ask? Simply because we're purely platonic and harbour absolutely no romantic inclinations towards each other. So get those soppy movies out of your head. Just because Harry Met Sally, and they became more than friends after a night of steaming hot sex doesn't mean that's what always happens.
I shared a hotel room with my guy best friend for two nights, and I am looking forward to doing it again.