If you're like me, it's a wonderful feeling to sleep in until late morning. No annoying alarm clocks to jar you awake, and you lay there basking in the afterglow of the dream world. This, of course, segues wonderfully into the beginnings of a lazy day of nothingness. It's what a "day off" should really be.
One Monday morning, I was in this same frame of mind. I'd been looking forward to enjoying a great day of doing nothing for quite a while. I was even excited all day on Sunday, just looking forward to it.
Then, at about 6:45am, I was awoken by what I thought was an alarm clock.
Coming quickly out of delicious REM sleep, I laid there dazed while I try to discern what was going on. Soon, I determined it was a car horn that was stuck on. "It'll stop soon," I told myself.
Ten minutes later, it hadn't stopped. And now, since my Monday-mini-vacation had been interrupted, I wasn't at all pleased. I pulled on some jeans, grabbed some vice-grip pliers, a pair of wire cutters, a large hammer, and headed out the door. I didn't even have shoes on!
A block away, I found the culprit - an old, red Mazda 323 hatchback. It must have had a ground wire break, or a short-circuit of some sort, because it's horn was blaring away, and no owner was in sight. A number of the neighbors were standing around, and when they saw me arrive with a mad look, and a large set of wire cutters, they knew to stay out of my way.
Fortunately for the little Mazda (and my well being, since my plans for the car would have probably meant I would have faced a potential arrest), the owner soon arrived. He was a sleepy college kid who feigned interest in the situation through his hangover.
"Is this your damn car?" I asked. He nodded. "You got the keys?" Nope. "Get back in there, and get your keys, or I will turn off this damn horn myself." Realizing I was at least 90% serious, he ran back inside and handed me the keys 30 seconds later.
I opened the door, ripped the cover off the fuse box, and yanked the red fuse for the horn. Silence once again fell upon the city of Baltimore. Relief overcame me, and after 40 minutes of hearing this tinny, little horn, I think I actually wept right there on dirty driver's seat.
I slammed the door, threw the kid his keys, mentioned that he should drive it to a garage to get it checked out, and to be careful because the fuse I'd pulled also controlled the brake lights. And with tools in hand, I walked back and went to bed.
So even though it's Monday once again, for you, dear reader, I wish you a day full of greatness. Take with you some of the delicousness of the weekend's sleep, don't stray too far from dreamland, and may all your car horns be silenced.
Photo from shiphorns.com
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