Speaking of snoring

Hurricane Snores

Does your ‘Other Half’s” snoring keep you awake at night? It could be worse. I do not tell you this to make a fool of anybody, only to convey the humorosity of it. You don’t know them so they cannot be harmed by the knowledge that really is nobody’s business but their own, which they are not even aware of.

After a week or so 20 miles north of Panama City Beach, Red Cross moved its headquarters TO DA BEACH!
We were on Front Beach Blvd. Across the street from us was The Gulf. It was beautiful. We were in some sort of a retreat. Those of us who worked at headquarters slept in several cabins consisting of little rooms with bunk beds and showers.

My cabin had a big room with 8 bunk beds, (We only used the bottoms because we were too old to leap on the tops,) and 2 smaller rooms, with a bathroom in the middle. I was in one of the small rooms.

Animals were allowed, but rare, and I was not surprised when I heard a dog barking one night.

It continued to bark and finally around 1:am I’d had enough and went into the other room to tell the guy to stop his dog from barking.

There was no dog.

R R R R R…like a terrier it continued to bark, but I could not see it?

I looked at his bunk. He was lying on his back, Barking Like a Dog!
WHOA! I don’t know what he was dreaming but he was certainly vocal about it. When he finally stopped I said, “Good boy!”

Speaking of snoring. On another deployment I slept on a cot in a big staff shelter. Four snorers surrounded me and snored at different times. I could get no sleep.

One of them left in the middle of the night. I got a break.

Not for long, another guy came in and took his place. He was the worst snorer I ever heard. He sounded like two cats fighting. It was unbearable! I thought, “I feel sorry for his wife.”

In the morning when the lights came on I saw that “he” was a woman?
The sweatest little ol woman you ever saw. She looked at me and said, “Good Morning!” Easy for her, she got a good nights sleep. I smiled and replied in kind.
That night I got another cot by myself.

Then there’s “The Talker.”
At the shelter north of Panama City Beach, where I met Myra, there was a guy who hung out in the dining room.
I asked a girl once for directions. She said, “I’ll take you, follow me,” then she turned abruptly, “We don’t want to go that way.”
I knew why, but laughed and asked her, “Why not?”
“That guy REALLY TALKS!”

It was The Talker. He would just come up to you and start talking and never stop. He talked about anything and everything. He didn’t care if you listened.
I had encountered him before. We were trying to eat and he kept talking.
He was telling us about the time he got struck by lightning. I asked if he acquired any super powers? He said no and kept talking about it.
I’d had enough and said to him, “You say you were struck by lightning?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s nothing. Lots of people get struck by lightning. Once I was struck by Thunder.”
He stopped talking and sat there with a blank look on his face. He didn’t know what to say.
Everyone said, “You stopped him,” and patted me on the back.

That’s the way it was.

By George
NoPo8