I woke up once with somebody's guitar in my sleeping bag with me. We were staying at a camp site just outside Brighton and there'd been a bit of a camp site party the night before which had gotten kinda rowdy and the voddy was flowing... as it does.... I'd taken my guitar there and was leading the singing (which was also somewhat politically incorrect) and after that I don't remember anything until waking up in the morning with a thumping head, a mouth that tasted like I'd slept with a sumo wrestler's jock strap in it, and said guitar.
I knew the axe wasn't mine as soon as I looked at it. I couldn't have possibly played it either because I'm a left hander. How it got there I have no idea but I did find mine in the end... in somebody else's tent. I gave the one I had back to it's owner and she asked me if I remembered everybody skinny dipping in the lake last night. I didn't, but it explained why I couldn't find my knickers..... well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.