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Message-ID: <43204asstr$1057187403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: mmtwassel@aol.com (mat twassel)
Subject: {ASSM} Mat Twassel: The Snoozer
Date: Wed,  2 Jul 2003 19:10:03 -0400
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The Snoozer 
by Mat Twassel
==============


One beautiful Saturday morning in early summer Joe 
and JoJo set out from their house on Bluebird Lane 
for a little before-breakfast stroll about the 
neighborhood.  They had not gone far, just around 
the corner and to the next block, Robin Drive, when 
they noticed a garage sale.

"Oh, no," Joe said, "we have way too much junk 
already."

"Aren't these little dresses just darling?" JoJo 
said, showing Joe a delicate pink gown.  He smiled. 
Amy, Joe and JoJo's daughter, was just of college 
age now, and JoJo had a collection of darling 
dresses and pink gowns sheathed in plastic hanging 
in the attic.

"How 'bout this?" Joe said, pointing to a slatted 
circular tub of weathered gray wood.

JoJo laughed.  "What is it?"

"Beats me," Joe answered. "Maybe some kind of cider 
press. See the hole down here. I bet that's where 
the juice would drip."

JoJo studied the hole.  "I don't know," she said. 
"I guess we could make it into a planter."

Now Joe laughed. JoJo could make just about 
anything into a planter. "Forget it," he said good-
naturedly. 

Next was a table of knickknacks and odds and ends.  
"Hey," said JoJo, stopping. "Hey," Joe echoed. They 
stood in front of the knickknack table staring at 
the alarm clock radio.

"A Snoozer," JoJo whispered.

"I know," Joe whispered back.

On their honeymoon twenty years ago, Joe and JoJo 
had spent six nights in the city in a not-quite-
seedy hotel convenient to the theater district.  
The idea was that the money saved on lodgings would 
go towards shows and dinners.  All Joe and JoJo 
really needed was a clean mattress and each other. 
And sometimes they didn't even need the mattress.  
The hotel offered a free continental breakfast, 
served from six-thirty to ten each morning. On the 
nightstand next to the double bed sat a little 
alarm clock radio. Late the first night, JoJo told 
Joe to set the alarm. "We don't want to miss the 
complimentary continental breakfast," she said. 

"We don't? What is a continental breakfast?"

"Probably not Belgian waffles smothered with syrup 
and ripe juicy baby strawberries," JoJo speculated.

"Probably not three eggs any way with smoked 
Canadian bacon and extra lean sausage and heaps of 
hash-browns," Joe said.

"Set the alarm for nine-thirty," JoJo told him. 
"That should give us plenty of time."

"Look, the case is cracked. I don't know if this 
thing even works. I don't know how it works."

But Joe opened the drawer in the night table, and 
there, underneath the Bible, he found a set of 
instructions. 

"My man!" said JoJo, hugging him as he studied the 
slim booklet.

"Choice of music or alarm."

"Music might be nice," JoJo said.

"Yeah, but we might get static."

"Or worse--news!"

"Right," said Joe.  "We'll go for the alarm. And 
see this button on top? That's the 'snoozer.' You 
press it and you get nine more minutes."

JoJo fingered the button, and then she touched the 
crack, which curved from the button on top to the 
back end of the case and on down.  "Poor little 
radio," JoJo said, patting it tenderly. "Looks like 
somebody bashed it."

Joe set the alarm.

As it turned out, Joe and JoJo were already awake 
when the alarm went off the next morning. They were 
awake but not out of bed. "Burr-rup, Burr-rup," 
blurted the alarm, soft at first, but then louder, 
raspier.

"Oh no," sighed JoJo. "Not yet." She gripped Joe's 
back with her hands, his legs with her legs, his 
middle with her middle, pulling him closer, 
tighter. "Don't leave me. Not yet."

"I can do the snoozer," Joe said. "That would give 
us nine more minutes. Would that be enough?"

The alarm blatted louder.

"Okay, do the snoozer," JoJo said. "Do it, but 
don't leave me. Not yet." She relaxed her grip just 
enough to let Joe reach the snoozer without 
disconnecting them.

Nine minutes later the alarm went off again.  "Too 
soon," JoJo snarled, her body tensing.

"It's time, sweetie," Joe told her. "Come on, now, 
come. Come, my little snoozer button girl, come."

"Burr-up, burr-up, burr-up," went the alarm, louder 
and louder. "Oh, oh, oh," went JoJo. Her thighs 
began to quiver. Her center began to contract. With 
the alarm blurting, JoJo followed Joe's 
instruction. 

"Oh, so good," Joe said, pushing down the button, 
quenching the raucous two-tone buzz.

"More," JoJo moaned.

"Any more and we'll miss the breakfast."

"More," JoJo implored, moving her middle, 
languidly at first, then urgently.

Four snoozers later, Joe and JoJo finally got up, 
too late for continental breakfast.

"It's all your fault," JoJo teased Joe as they 
crowded in the bathroom to brush their teeth. "No 
three eggs any way for you."

"I didn't know how to turn it off," Joe pleaded. 
"The instructions didn't say. I just reset the 
thing for same time tomorrow."

"Good," JoJo said.

The week went by, and Joe and JoJo never did make 
it to a continental breakfast. It didn't matter 
what position they were in, or even whether Joe 
was in her. They could simply be kissing. When 
the snoozer went off, she went off. On the last 
morning there were so many nine minute intervals, 
they missed the eleven o'clock checkout.

JoJo rested against Joe's shoulder as they began 
the long drive home. "Shall we get one of those 
radio snoozer things with the last of our wedding 
money?" Joe asked her.

"No," JoJo said sleepily. "It was fun, but I was 
beginning to feel like a puppet. Or one of those 
dogs. At the concert last night I started to drip 
just thinking about that alarm going off."

Now twenty years later an identical alarm clock 
radio showed up at a garage sale in the next block. 

"Do you think it's the same one?" JoJo's finger 
traced the smooth crack. "It looks the same. It's 
got the same kind of crack across the top."

"Probably a design flaw," Joe said.

"But do you think it works?" JoJo whispered. 

"If it doesn't, you could make a planter out of 
it," Joe said.

JoJo smiled.  "Ooh, let's buy it. I'm so excited."

"Me, too," Joe admitted.

"I know," JoJo said, pressing back so her bottom 
brushed his front. "I can tell."

They bought the radio. They hurried home. 

"What should I set it for?" Joe asked as he plugged 
it in.

"Set it for now," JoJo said.

"One more," JoJo sighed, some twenty-seven minutes 
later.  "Okay, honey? Just one more, then I'll make 
you a continental breakfast like you've never had 
before."

Joe pushed the snoozer and simultaneously replanted 
himself in the sure grip of JoJo's silky embrace.





==============
The Snoozer 
by Mat Twassel

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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