Five of two am. My eyes fly open as is my nightly routine. As always, I recall the Joe Friday sound-a-like from my youth and his mono-intonation, "Nothing good ever happens between the hours of two and four am."
"Au contraire..." I subconsciously shift my newly-inked-on-a-whim wrist, proving his point nightly.
The subtle movement is never lost on him. He languorously lifts all-seeing eyes to mine and drawls the one syllable admonishment in three syllables. "Right."
And so I awake.
Every morning. Two o'clock sharp. And every morning I hope for a quick return to the Land of Slumber.
Except this morning.
This morning I awoke early--when I felt the cool steel of a 9 millimeter tap my temple and I prayed I would survive last nights online dating choice.
Not all bad decisions happen between two and four am Joe.
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