In the small hours.

by beanalreasa

An odd thing happened at the hotel between Friday night and Saturday morning:

We had gotten to the room about 1:00 AM. It didn’t take us long to settle down.  V fell asleep almost immediately — he had, after all, done all the driving throughout the day before – and I dozed off pretty quickly, too.

And just when I started to dream, the alarm clock went off.  It was a loud, surreal, jangling sound.  I almost didn’t know what it was.   I looked over at the clock and saw that it was 2:00 AM.

So I got out of the bed and went over to the clock.

Upon picking it up, I noticed that it had a slider switch, which seemed to allow the alarm to be set in one of four different sound settings.  I wondered how all four sounds could be going off at once, as the clock alternately buzzed, jangled, vibrated, and played snippets of music, as I held it in my hands.

It took me a good two or three minutes before my groggy brain could decipher how in the hell to shut it off.

But I figured it out.

And then…no matter how hard I tried, I could not get back to sleep.

As I lay there in bed, analyzing things,  I realized that I was pretty stressed about the class that V and I would be teaching in about six hours.

And here I was, unable to get my head to be quiet, much to my dismay.

Around 5 AM or so, I really began feeling… alone.  Or lonely for someone to talk to, anyway.

So I lay there in the bed, with eyes closed.  I was half-aware of the TV going through yet another rotation of the midnight news cycle, when a commercial burst loudly into my consciousness, blaring:


I opened my eyes to see, albeit blearily, that this was nothing more than a commercial for a local used car dealership in Clearwater, Florida: a LOKEY dealership, actually.

The commercial continued on about how “LOKEY cares about the customer” and “LOKEY is all about customer service” and whatnot, followed by the repeated phrase: “Don’t forget! LOKEY cares!”



Still couldn’t get back to sleep, but it was nice to know:

LOKEY CARES…about me.

Even if I’ve no interest in a low-interest rate for a used car.