Back in the late 1980s, B-i-L's band was playing a gig at an army base in Kingston Ontario. The "dressing room" was actually the officer's lounge, which had been closed for the evening to accommodate us.
Normally, at the end of the night I would have helped tear down, but I had just come out of the hospital and had orders not to lift anything heavy.
Knowing this information going into the night, I had consumed a bit too much of the wonderfully cheap booze that our armed brethren have access too.
We barely pay our military in Canada, so cheap liquor is the least we can do.
But enough about politics - the important part of the story was that I was drunk at an army base and decided to sleep it off back in the "dressing room" on a rather large and comfy couch.
The only problem was the coat that I was wearing. It was a very chilly February weekend in Kingston so I had grabbed my grandfather's warm army-green hunting jacket. When I passed out on the couch, I had it draped over my head and upper body.
You can likely see where this is going.
At 0123 hours (pronounced zero-one-hundred-twenty-three-hours) military time, an MP strode into the officer's lounge and saw this enlisted man passed out with his coat on top of him.
Suddenly I went from beautiful silent blackened bliss to a shot of bright light and the shout of
"WHAT IN THE $%#%$%$ DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING SOLDIER!!!!!!! ON YOUR FEET IMMEDIATELY!!!!!
Much to my surprise I was on my feet - and believe me it was immediately.
The Military Policeman had an odd look on his face as he saw this 120 lb teenager standing there in front of him bewildered and trying to speak.
The worst part was I didn't know how long I'd been sleeping. All I could say was "Ahhhh, is the band st..sttill heerree?"
The MP's voice changed to a normal cadence. "You with the band?"
I nodded.
"Oh" he said quietly. He handed back my coat and walked away without saying another word.
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