The Igloo Adventure

Once again it's time for Mamakat's writers workshop. I will attempt to do #1.

My head was pounding, my mouth felt like it was full of cotton and something or someone was poking me. I slowly opened one eye and saw an unfamiliar face looking back at me. This was the source of the poking. I quickly shut my eye again and pretended I was a sleep. Maybe, I thought to myself, if I feign sleep they'll go away and leave me alone. No such luck.

Face: Lady, wake up! You have to get out of my igloo and go home.

Me: (in my head) Igloo? Why would I be in an igloo? Aren't they normally in Alaska? I live in Wisconsin how would I get to Alaska? I just went to my neighbor Judy's party last night.

Face: Lady, I saw you open your eyes. I know you're awake. Talk to me.

Me: Who are you? How did I get here? Where am I? Better yet who am I? I don't remember anything from last night. As I talk I quickly check my pockets for a wallet but all I find is $4 and a rock in one pocket and a toothbrush in another. (Great, I can skip rocks on the lake, brush my teeth and buy a pound of whale blubber but I don't know who I am!!
Lot of good this does me.) Maybe I can use the $4 to pay this guy to find out who I am? No not enough money.

Face: My name is George and if you give me the $4 I'll help you find out who you are and help you get home.

Me: (Thinking to myself this guy is nuts but if he thinks he can do this for $4, I'm game) "OK George you have a deal" Here's the $4.

George: Your name is Karen, you live two houses over and you were at a party last night. The reason you have a rock in your pocket is Judy's son was going to throw it at his sister and you took it away from him so he couldn't hurt her. The toothbrush is your daughters, you went home to make sure she brushed her teeth before going to bed but you got interrupted before you had a chance to do this so you stuck it in your pocket and never took it out again. You had a little too much to drink at the party (this isn't a bad thing) and ended up in my yard sleeping in my son's igloo tent. I didn't have the heart to wake you and send you home last night so I just let you stay here.

Me: A little sheepishly: So I'm not in Alaska? (Slowly it all starts to come back to me. I remember drinking Purple Passions last night. They tasted like grape juice and went down so easy that I must have had a few too many, hence the hangover and memory loss.)

George: No, still in Wisconsin.

Me: Crawling out of the tent a little awkwardly I manage to finally stand up and look around. I now recognize the neighborhood and feel foolish. All I want to do is go home. Vowing never to drink another Purple Passion again as long as I live. I turn to Geroge and mutter a Thank you as I quikly dart across his yard to mine.