In student years, they drank at a fellow student at a rented house. There was a lot of Port-au-Prince, so we decided to stay overnight. The owner, before cutting off on the only couch, which, by the way, was broken and did not lay down, gave us with a friend some fig in a flower size with a small blanket and one pillow. Through sober conclusions came to the conclusion that this flower shit is a bedroom. We went there both (thanks to "Ahdam" and "Prometheus"). It was hard and cold on the floor, and this bedroom wasn’t hot. In the morning we woke up from the fact that the wife of a fellow student, returning from a night shift, woke us up with an original question: "Boys, what did you sleep in the bedroom"? Doolgo then advised us by nature to take it instead of bedrooms.