Your plastic bin bed is soft and pleasant. A far improvement over the rock-and-mud model you've used the past three nights, it's cozy leg-over-head positioning feels therapeutic to your back (might be the booze, to be fair) and the moldy-pillow cushioning is soothing to your ashen skin. It's the best sleep you've had since your wife kicked you out of the stairwell of the abandoned building you'd been squatting in.
You awake feeling rested and fresh, ready to harass anyone that comes your way for a dollar.