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Today marks 7 years since the time I sleepwalked naked out of my flat, locking myself out. That was the start of a long and unusual night.
So, I’d been out drinking with friends, and I came home and went to bed in my new flat I’d moved into 2 days earlier. My first time living on my own! Go me.
The next thing I knew, I was pulling the door to my flat closed behind me. I woke up just as the lock clicked shut. I was naked. And I would later learn it was about 1:30am.
So, I had a problem. My sister had my spare key, but she lived the other side of London and I didn’t know her number. I knew my mum’s, but she didn’t have a working phone in her room, so I’d have to wait till mum woke up, get my sister’s no, and ask her to come rescue me.
My first plan was to go to sleep in the stairwell, then in the morning introduce myself (naked) to my new neighbours and ask if I could borrow a phone for an emergency.
But after an hour or so I decided it was intolerably cold (it was December after all), so I went downstairs, propped open the main door and ran out to find a phone booth and dial 999.
(It’s a busy road, even at that time.)
Unfortunately the first phone booth I found wasn’t working so instead I had to run down the street to the *next* phone booth and dial 999.
I ran back inside and waited. I just wanted a sheet or something to wrap myself in. When an ambulance came the paramedics gave me a blanket. They thought this was hilarious. I said “I’m sure this happens all the time.” They said “No.”
They tried to pick my lock and failed. They called out a locksmith. He said he couldn’t pick it but could change it. I didn’t want him to as that would mean telling my landlord what had happened within *2 days* of me moving in.
So the paramedics gave me a lift to the hospital, where I was given some scrubs to change into and wait for morning.
It turns out doctors are much better than nurses at keeping a straight face. One doctor was concerned that I’d be suffering from exposure. Every now and then a nurse would come round the corner and either giggle or say “oh bless.”
But eventually mum woke up, she gave me my sister’s number who came and drove me back to mine with my spare key, so I got in, changed, and then made it to college just as they were taking the register 
And that’s the story of why I started keeping a pair of emergency underpants under my doormat. /ENDS
EPILOGUE Although about a year ago my emergency underpants were stolen and I don’t know what my neighbours now think of me. /REALLY ENDS
