In fact, I speak of a much more sinister development....Pillow Envy. That's right, I said pillow envy. My roommate, Mychal, has developed what we shall call an unhealthy level of infatuation with my pillow. To be sure, it's a pretty nice pillow: allergen free, down alternative, supple but cushy and all within a luxurious, 6 million count, Egyptian cotton pillow case. Not too shabby. Which is why I elected to bring it with me on tour. Lots of time spent in the van combined with lots of time spent in Super 8 hotels (jealous?), equals Sara making a good call to ensure her head and neck comfort.
Unfortunately, I failed to enter into the equation a roommate who will stop at nothing to get her hands on my trusty pillow.
The first night, Mychal "accidentally" thought that my pillow was one of the hotel pillows...despite the fact that my pillowcase is yellow, while everyone knows that all hotel pillows are white...I'm just saying. However, I'll allow that the first night may have been unintentional (she does, after all, wear a super sexy eye mask which could have blinded her..or something). All I know is that I came out of the shower looking forward to cuddling up with my pillow, only to find that it was missing- hidden beneath the head of my roommate. Not wanting to wake her, and assuming an accident, I let it go.
This was my first mistake.
While I was attempting to "be generous" by letting her use the pillow for one night, I didn't count on the effects a whole night with my pillow might have on Mychal. Now that she'd had a taste, she would continually want more. Night two of the tour, I guarded my pillow well, only to be shockingly awoken in the morning by having the pillow yanked violently from under my head. Night three resulted in an tug of war before bed because Mychal had stolen the pillow and was refusing to relinquish it. And last night the action peaked as covert tactics were finally employed.
I reentered the room having been on the phone with my mom (like a good daughter), and like a good roommate, I was trying to be as quiet and courteous as possible by tiptoeing around the hotel room by the light of my cell phone (you know, you've all done it). After removing miscellaneous things from the bed I was just ready to get in when I picked up my pillow- or I should say, what appeared to be my pillow. It felt oddly stiff. It seemed unnaturally square. But perhaps I was hallucinating, or perhaps I had mistakenly picked up, my other roommate, Emily's pillow. Again, not wanting to wake the roommates, I tiptoed over to my recently plugged in cell phone with the pillow for further examination. It was indeed my pillowcase, but it seemed that someone had removed the pillow from within and replaced it with a crap-ass hotel pillow. Hmmm...who could the culprit be.
Removing my cell phone from it's charger and using it as a flashlight, I investigated the pillow upon which Mychal's snoring head now rested. It was curiously like my pillow, nay, not like- it WAS my pillow.
"That whore!," I thought. *
Well, there's a time for generosity and a time for tough love- this I felt was clearly a time when all's fair in pillow war!! Well, I held myself back a tiny bit. Instead of yanking the pillow out from under her like a magician yanking a tablecloth out from under a table top loaded with a gourmet meal, I decided to see if I could gently pull the pillow out without waking Mychal (thus avoiding any guilt for waking her on my end, and any retaliation on her end). I'm relieved to say that I was successful, although considering the amount of laughter that ensued from the apparently awake and highly amused Emily, I'm not sure that Mychal's sleeping through the pillow removal can be credited to my gentleness as much as some level of narcolepsy on her part.
Well, here we are- night 6- and I write to you from the bed of a Days Inn in O'Fallon, Illinois. Tomahawk Starfish aka Mychal Phillips, is sleeping peacefully in the bed next to me. Where is my pillow? Oh don't you worry, it's safe. Neatly hidden between the bed and the nightstand. Safe. For now. But I don't kid myself. It's not over. But for now, I'm winning- I've got the pillow, and that's all that matters. B>)
*Those of you who know me should note that I only call people "whores" who are as far removed from people who could actually be considered whorish as possible, thus allowing the insult a sense of irony. No offense is intended.
