CONFESSION #003

I woke up in someone else’s tent.

That sentence sounds far more exciting than the reality.

I had spent most of Saturday night confidently telling everyone that I knew exactly where our campsite was. I had memorized the route using three unmistakable landmarks: the blue gazebo, the inflatable flamingo, and a suspiciously shaped tree.

Apparently, every campsite at the festival had a blue gazebo, an inflatable flamingo, and a suspiciously shaped tree.

At some point after sunrise, I found what I believed was my tent, crawled inside, wrapped myself in a sleeping bag, and passed out peacefully.

A few hours later, I woke up because somebody was gently poking me.

There were four strangers standing outside the tent, staring at me like they had discovered a rare animal.

One of them asked, “Are you supposed to be here?”

I looked around and immediately realized that nothing inside the tent belonged to me.

Different bag. Different shoes. Different blanket.

Instead of admitting my mistake, my exhausted brain decided to say, “Yes.”

They asked whose friend I was.

I named someone called Stacey.

Nobody knew a Stacey.

There may not even have been a Stacey at the festival.

I eventually crawled out while apologizing to everyone. They were surprisingly kind about it and gave me coffee before sending me back into the wild.

It took me another forty minutes to find my actual campsite.

The inflatable flamingo had been there the entire time.

It was wearing my sunglasses.

Origin, 2026
Submitted by: Stacey’s Plus One