It's hard to fall asleep. At work we have a chance to bid on three evening events for a big distributor meeting. Somehow, I've been put in charge of the creative. Normally, I'm the person who lays out the book once other people figure out the overarching concept. This time, I'm being asked to run the brainstorms, corral the big egos in the room (a scenic designer, a stage designer, a menu designer, a writer and they guy who will lay out the book), coordinate the creative and direct the process for the next three weeks. It's similar to the job description I wrote for myself, so I'm excited to try it, but also a bit freaked out. The kickoff meeting and initial brainstorm are today. I have to put together a capabilities presentation by 1 PM. I pray my way to sleep...
I bolt up in the bed and run to grab our car keys. I point them at the floor and push the 'unlock' button.
The sound continues, louder, as I open the patio door and try again to point down at the carport. Still going. I run downstairs and try again. Then I see our neighbor in the next carport doing the same thing. I realize it's not the Subaru. I go over to help her. She's frantic. "I can't get it to stop!!" She pulls out the owner's manual and is going through it. Of course there's nothing in there for how to stop a runaway car alarm. She runs inside and I keep flipping through the manual. Upon returning, she pops her hood and then some tall stranger is standing behind her car, "You can unplug the battery!" he shouts. "That's what I'm about to do!!" she shouts back.
Silence. She hadn't touched anything. We breath a sigh of relief and head to our apartments. Jrex mumbles, "What was that?" I explain and we try to sleep. It's 1:30 AM.
It stops on it's own. I grab my Soduko and try to calm my whirling brain. As I'm drifting off...
I try to ignore it. Jrex gives up and rises to continue his daunting pile of work. I lay there and imagine my neighbor alone as she tries to figure it all out. I sigh and head downstairs.
She's totally freaked out, "I've disconnected the battery. I've pulled out the fuse that goes to the alarm! Nothing!? I called my Dad in Nevada. I don't know what else to do!!!"
I look around the car port. The upstairs neighbor's little old car is next to hers. I touch the hood and it's vibrating. I run upstairs and bang on their door. He opens it and says, "We don't have a car alarm!" I nod and exclaim, "That may be so, but it's your car!"
He and his wife (both fussy, anxious people) come running downstairs and try to turn on their car. That doesn't do anything. Then he's trying to open the hood from the top, then in the front, he doesn't know how to open it. Two cops show up. Finally one of them disconnects the battery.
Silence. Blessed, lovely, thick, heavy, delicious silence.
The Anxious Couple keep insisting that they don't have a car alarm. I smile at them, "It sounds like there's a short in your system or a fuse that might need to be changed." The couple keep apologizing and the single woman keeps telling what happened to her. When they start to repeat for the third time, I sneak away and stumble back to bed.