Date: Thu, 09 Oct 2003 00:35:03 -0400
From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com>
Subject: Airport Voyeur by Adam Bricker - A/Y, AF

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What's New at TomCup.com?

Airport Voyeur by Adam Bricker: Chapter 4: Added 10/07*
The Innocents: Paulo and Beto Chapter 13: Added 10/07
Calvin: Indentity Crisis Part 2 Chapter 1 Added 10/3
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Lesbian Files: Changing Seasons Chapter 3 Added 9/23
The Nasty Boys Club Chapter 1: Added 9/22*
KOA Boy Chapter 9: Added 9/16
Article: A stick in the Queer Eye: Added 9/14
Private Lessons Chapter 7 Added 9/14
Age Before Beauty Chapter 5 Added 9/9
Of Our Teenage Years Chapter 16: Added 7/22
Short Story: Such a Beautiful Boy Added 12
Short Story: Home Alone Added 7/1
Stephen Miller's Journal  Chapter 13 Added 6/25
Article: Bisexuality Added 6/12
Article: My New Swimsuit's Too Small Added 6/03


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Airport Voyeur
By Adam P. Bricker
adambrick@tomcup.com

Chapter One -- Love Can Be Obvious & Obnoxious

Tugging my roll-a-board down the airport concourse, I was looking for a
restaurant or food stand.  After nine hours traveling I was just going
through the motions.  The locally run food stand between the waiting areas
for gates five and six would do, at this point I really didn't care.  You
really couldn't call it a restaurant, anyway.

It was Monday; I drove an hour to get to Boston, waited two hours for the
flight and spent three hours flying to Atlanta.  After waiting another hour
and a half for the flight to McAllen, Texas, which also took over two hours,
I was tired, grumpy and hungry.  I still had to retrieve my rental car and
get to the motel.

"Large unsweetened ice tea and two hot dogs with ketchup, please," I said to
the kid behind the counter.

He delivered my order to the table and I handed him my credit card.

I sat there munching hot dogs, and the potato chips he had included, while I
sipped ice tea.  I was recharging my batteries.  About half way through this
elegant gourmet meal, I noticed a young man and two boys enter.

How shall I describe them?  Angels? That does not adequately describe their
beauty.  They were possibly the most perfect males that I had ever seen.

The man was in his thirties, dark hair, 5' 8" tall and 140 pounds. His thick
dark hair was professionally cut.  He wore a pair of black trousers,
French-blue dress shirt and a Brooks Brother's navy blue blazer.  His
glasses were positioned just slightly down on his nose, not to make him look
old but gentle, caring; like the father whose arms one desires to cuddle
into at night before bed.

He put down his traveling bag, a black folding leather garment bag, while he
got the boys settled at a table.  He conferred with them for a couple
seconds about food selections then went up to the counter.  Watching him
move was spellbinding. If I had looked through classic paintings, statues or
sketches, I'm not sure that I could have found any artist's rendering that
improved or even matched the beauty of this man.  I don't mean that he was
pretty.  He was medium build, confident in handling what he was doing and
knew what he wanted.  He was not only a man that I would cuddle into my
arms, but I would also hand him my money as an investment counselor.  Words
are inadequate; he was strong, beautiful and confident.  As he returned to
the table with the two boys, I realized that I had been holding my breath.

Don't think that he was all there was to look at, because I haven't even
started to describe the boys.  The older one was dark haired while the
younger one was sunlight blonde.  Their faces were both of the smoothest
skin.  Acne had not even been thought of for these kids.  They weren't large
and I'd guess about ten years old.  They wore matching white and blue
windowpane dress shirts.  The shirts were buttoned down, but open at the
neck for a couple buttons, and left untucked, outside their pants.  Each one
had a rope necklace with an iron cross hanging from it.  It merely
accentuated the young skin under the shirt, making me wanted to look beneath
those shirts even more.

As I watched, I began to get a better impression of their background; little
things that I observed gave me insights.  Each boy had his own backpack.  I
guessed they were the Eastpack brand from where I was sitting, but they were
like new and not the mass merchandiser models, these were expensive leather.

They sat waiting for their food talking, but I couldn't hear their
conversation.  The kid behind the counter came over with their order and the
two boys dove into the food: the conversation stopped.

The boys were eating burritos and French fries.  They were neat, but still
boys.  They also seemed to have been well trained in etiquette.  Each had a
napkin on his lap, they used the silverware, and they didn't stuff their
mouths.  These may seem like strange things to notice, but the boys were
easy to watch.

I'd forgotten my receipt was still sitting on the table, and since I'd
finished my food, and didn't want to appear completely rude, watching the
strangers of another table, I went up to the counter to leave the tip.  As I
passed their table I heard the conversation in Spanish.  That's not unusual
in this part of Texas.

The father wore a Rolex watch, impressive, but his hands drew my attention.
They were slender like a pianist.  He looked up and smiled and I almost
tripped over the leg of the table.  That wasn't because the construction of
the table was awkward, it was because I lost track of which way the counter
was that I was headed for.

I put the tip for the kid behind the counter in a cup and left.  If I had
stayed any longer I would have made a fool of myself.  I left the terminal
concourse and went out to the public area to retrieve my luggage.
Immediately across from baggage claim is where one makes commitment that
one's rental car is in perfect condition and no matter what happens one will
be responsible and quickly pay if anything goes wrong.  The lady behind the
counter, Angie is what her nametag said, was handling two other customers
ahead of me.  From the tone of the conversation I got the impression that
things were not going well for her that day.

"Sir, I have a Chevy Lumina or a Saturn Ion.  In your car group those are
the only cars I have," she said.  Her voice was tired and the attitude was
getting sharp.

The elderly gentleman in front tried to explain what he had ordered and what
he expected her to do about it.  She wasn't ready to take much more for the
day.  He let her know how he felt, but she was firm, and not budging from
her "available cars."  Eventually they settled that he would take the Chevy
Lumina and write to customer service about his treatment.

The next customer, a lady with a cart full of luggage, moved up to the
counter and presented her driver's license.  She was in one of the preferred
renter programs.  Angie explained that only because she was in the preferred
program was she able to get this car today.  In fact, she got upgraded from
a Buick Regal to a Cadillac Seville at no additional charge because that was
all they had that would fit her requested car level.  The lady with the
luggage was very happy, but I could see that this was not going to be a
great relief for Angie.  She was just too frazzled from the entire day.

As the lady in front of me took her contract and keys to go dump her luggage
into the trunk of a Cadillac Seville, I moved up to the counter.  I
presented my driver's license to Angie.

I said, "Good evening, my name is Adam P. Bricker and I reserved a pickup
truck."

Angie said, "Sir, we don't have any pickup trucks at this location.
Generally, we would upgrade you to a compact car, but we're experiencing
some severe shortages.  I only have a few vehicles left."

Obviously this was going to be a problem or a great solution.  I needed to
be patient and friendly, or I could blow my chances here.  Thank god that I
had just spent some time decompressing in the restaurant.  I asked, "What's
been happening around here?  Usually you always have plenty of cars."

I always order a pickup specifically because most locations don't carry
them.  The rate for a pickup truck is about $19 per day, and if they don't
have it, I get upgraded to a compact for that price.  The price difference
can be from $5 to $25 dollars a day, depending on the location.  But I've
also learned that you get more bees with honey than vinegar.  So this was a
"honey" situation if I'd ever seen one.

"Sir, we're just about out of cars.  There's a large convention happening in
Brownsville, which is just south of here and almost all of the cars and
hotel rooms are taken.  It's been like this for days and getting worse.  I
really didn't want to come in today, because I knew how bad it would get.
No one ever seems to understand that I can only rent cars to them if we have
cars.  I can't go back there and create cars that don't exist."  She ran out
of steam, but you could tell that this had not been a red-letter day for
her.

"Ma'm, I have a client here in Edinburg that I'm going to see tomorrow, but
they're not picking me up tonight and I really don't want to walk to the
motel on the other side of town.  What do you have that's still available?"

At that point in the conversation, the father and two sons that I had been
watching walked up and stood behind me.  They had retrieved their luggage
and had five or six good-sized bags, the size that one doesn't carry on
board.

"Sir, I only have a Saturn Ion and a Dodge 15 passenger van left at this
time.  The Saturn though is a two door," said Angie, with a weary smile.

"I'm sorry, I requested the pickup because of the luggage room in the rear
of the pickup," I said.  In truth, I don't like 2-door cars and didn't want
to be cramped into that little car.

"Sir, the jump in grade from the pickup to the 15 passenger van is more than
I think my manager would approve.  Are you really sure that you need
something that large?  These two cars are the last two vehicles I have left,
and I'm trying to keep everyone happy.  That gentleman behind you has quite
a bit of luggage."

I was surprised that at the end of a day like this she could be thinking
that far ahead and being concerned for the next person in line.  But then
you had to see the next guy in line with those two boys.  Anyone's heart
would have melted.

I turned around and he was much closer to me than he had been before.  The
brown eyes, the long lashes and his great set eyes were just magnetic.  It
took me a second to form eight words into a declarative sentence, and only
years of constant practice speaking allowed me to follow that with an
interrogative sentence.

"Excuse me; she only has two vehicles remaining.  Do you really need the 15
passenger van that she has?"  I was hoping for a long involved conversation,
anything that would keep this guy standing close talking to me.

Why was I asking questions you could answer with a simple "yes" or "no?"  My
sales training had taught me years ago if you wanted a longer conversation
you used what are called open ended questions, where you can't answer with
those two simple words.  I wasn't even sure, after hearing he and his sons
talking back in the restaurant, that he understood me.

"Well Señor, with this amount of luggage we have, it would be more
convenient than the smaller vehicle," he said with just a slight accent.
His voice was cultured, confident and smooth.  It wasn't soft.  He wasn't
hesitant about his words.  He understood me well and pleasantly made his
point.  I could have stood and listened to that voice, looking into those
eyes until someone came up and punched me in the stomach.  In fact, it felt
like someone had already done so.

I tried to keep the conversation going, hoping he would keep talking.  "I'm
going to the Edinburg Executive Inn on the south side of town," I said, "I
guess the small car would be workable for that trip.  I would feel guilty
claiming the big van since you and your sons have so much luggage."

"We're going to the same hotel as you Señor.  Would you care to share the
vehicle?"

"I'm sorry; I need a car to get to my client's office in the morning.  I'm
afraid sharing a vehicle wouldn't work."  I was really distressed I had to
turn down a trip with these three.  Even a short trip to the hotel would be
time to share more with them.  But one of the conditions in my traveling has
always been to have independence when I visit a client.

I'm a rather private person.  I don't like having to divulge my entire
itinerary, schedule and flight plans to a client.  It puts me at their
mercy.  For years it has been my practice to fly in the evening, or
afternoon before an engagement.  I get a good night's sleep and show up at
the client's office fresh and independent.  Then when the client says, "What
time is your plane tomorrow?"  I answer then with, "I need to leave here at
about such and such a time."  That leaves me the flexibility to include my
travel time to the airport, along with enough time at the airport to make it
through security and collect my thoughts before boarding a plane.

I just like to travel peacefully.  I like traveling, and so long as I can
manage the schedule I don't get stressed.  It also leaves me time for people
watching, and that is a major pastime.  The need for my own transportation
cancelled this offer.

"Señor we have no need of the vehicle for the next two days until we return
to the airport.  My sons are staying in the hotel while I work with my
customer here in town.  My customer's business is just across the street
from the hotel.   My sons and I are on a combined business trip and holiday.
  We are from Segovia Spain.  I have business here but it was holiday for my
sons, so I brought them along.  This is their first visit to the United
States.  They will enjoy just being here and swimming in the hotel pool.
Please consider my offer.  Neither of us wants the small car and the 15
passenger van is really too much for either of us."

Was God up there making all of this happen?  My heart was pounding in my
chest.  My mouth was dry and my hands were perspiring.

"Certainly, then, I'm sure we can work it out.  Let me put it on my charge
and we'll find an equitable settlement later."  I handed Angie my credit
card and said, "I'm sure you heard enough to know how we're feeling about
the small car, please put the van on my card.  This also leaves you one more
car for the next person renting."

"I'm really happy that the two of you could work this out.  It makes my job
easier and sounds like you'll both enjoy it.  But when do you need to come
back Mr. Bricker?"

"Actually, my schedule sounds like this gentleman's here.  I'm taking some
vacation time along with this business trip, so I was thinking of returning
the car on Thursday.  That is what my reservation was for."

I turned to the gentleman behind me and said, "I was planning on returning
the car on Thursday, is that convenient with your schedule?"

"Yes, from here we were going to Denver Colorado and then to your Grand
Canyon. Our tickets are for Thursday late in the morning."

I turned to Angie and said, "Looks like we're all on the same schedule.
Please run the rental on my card."

While Angie punched keys and got the VIN number I turned to the gentleman
from Segovia and extended my hand.  "I'm Adam Bricker.  I am very glad to
meet you and even more excited that we could work this out.  Thank you very
much."

"You are most welcome.  I am Señor Fernando Miguel Gabriel Corazon de Dios
from Seville and these are my sons.  Philippe here is eleven and Paulo is
nine-years-old."  We shook hands firmly, but longer than most Americans.  It
wasn't like he was never letting go of my hand, which wouldn't have been a
problem, but he held on firmly longer than most business people.

Philippe, who was 11, was the taller one with dark hair and had eyes like a
doe.  He very politely stepped forward and extended his hand saying, "Very
good to meet you sir."  His English was even better than his father's.  In
fact, it had almost a British accent.

His blonde haired brother also extended his delicate hand and said, "It is a
pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir."  Almost like his father, his
handshake lingered before he withdrew his hand.  He stepped back behind his
brother.  I can't think of the last time I saw two children, of any sort, as
well mannered.

They weren't wearing baggy pants that showed their boxer shorts, half way
down to their knees.  They weren't ignoring you while playing GameBoys.
There were no rings or body piercing elements.  And their hair was full on
top, combed, in fact trained into position, and neatly trimmed around the
sides.

I've thought about it before, I know what really turns me on.  It starts
with the eyes; then the face and next well maintained hair.  I don't know
why, it just always has.  God and heredity had been at work with these
three.

Fernando had eyes that just made me melt and he could easily have been on
the cover of any popular woman's magazine as a heartthrob.  In fact, he
could grace the cover of "Instinct" or "Out" and be adored by thousands of
gay guys everywhere, but obviously I guessed he was straight. I felt like I
was fumbling while doing anything compared to him.

I've known that I liked guys/boys for a number of years.  No one in my
family knows, or has ever let on that they know.  Certainly, being raised in
the conservative religious family that I have, I've never told them.  My
parents would have a major coronary if they found out.  My father is very
conservative; in fact I'd call him uptight.  My mother is very religiously
devoted, and together I don't know how they could cope.  They cried when my
first brother got divorced and then my second brother got divorced, and then
they both divorced a second time, each.  My parents lost a lot of confidence
and respect for each of them.  Of course my sisters are both still in their
first marriage, and my parents believe that they are angels.  Being the
youngest I think they expect me to redeem the vows of marriage that have
been broken by my brothers.  They figure that this traveling will eventually
end and I'll find a stable girl to make a home with.  If they only knew!

We all took out baggage out to the rental car in the parking lot.  It wasn't
hard to tell which vehicle was ours.  On the left was a silver Saturn Ion
and parked on the right, down about eight spaces was a royal blue Dodge
fifteen-passenger van.  I've rented these in the past when client work
required transporting a large group from the hotel to a dinner party or for
a tour of branch locations of a client.  This one was new, but the color was
really over the top.  When I say royal blue, I mean practically electric.
We all stood there in stunned silence, then Philippe started laughing and
Paulo joined in, and Fernando and I couldn't hold back.  We all started
walking to the van knowing that everyone would identify us with this vehicle
the minute they saw us get out.  All it needed was a neon sign revolving
around on top.

I opened the rear doors and we began loading luggage.  Philippe handed
luggage to me from their cart, but Paulo sort of pushed past me to load it
himself.  Every time he pushed past me, he actually pushed against me to get
me out of the way.  I would have moved out of the way if he had asked.  In
fact, it really seemed out of character, the culture that I sensed from them
all didn't fit with this behavior.  He did this more than once, each time
making sure to push into me, in front.  For a little kid that was rather
rude.  I expected his father to say something, but I heard nothing.

For the four of us this van was oversized.  I went up to the driver's door
and got in, Fernando got in the second seat with Philippe and Paulo sat
shotgun.  I really expected Fernando to be up front and the boys to sit in
the back.  Oh well, they all were so gorgeous that I wasn't going to
complain.  I looked at the map and pulled out of the parking lot.

While making our way to the Edinburg Executive Inn, Fernando told me about
his business.  He is a representative for a Spanish pharmaceutical
manufacturer.  He sells to pharmaceutical companies, hospitals, HMO's and
the military in both the USA and Mexico.  The boys attend a boarding school
in England (I picked that up earlier, this just confirmed it.)  His wife was
British but she died three years ago.  That was the reason that he placed
the boys in boarding school.  And passing on her heritage was part of the
idea when he chose English schools.

"What do you do sir?" asked Paulo.

"I'm a consultant," I said.

"Where did you come from?" he continued.

"This morning I was in Boston, Massachusetts," I told him, "Have you ever
been here before?"

"Yes, I have," Paulo said, "Last year we came to see the same client that
Dad's going to see tomorrow. How long are you going to be here?"

The kid could rapid-fire questions with the best of them.

"I'm leaving on Thursday to go home."

"Do you have children?"

"No, I'm a bachelor.  I'm not married and don't have any kids."

"Are you going to get married?"

"I currently don't have any plans for that," I said.  This was starting to
get more specific.

"Are you married or do you have any kids?" I asked Paulo.  I thought if he
could ask questions I could too.  And maybe I could sidetrack him.

"Of course, I'm not married.  I'm only 9 years old!"

Philippe sort of chuckled in the back seat.

We arrived at the hotel, unloaded and walked up to the registration desk
together.  I presented my credit card and Hilton Honor's card.  I told the
night cashier my name and mentioned my reservation.  He said he had the
reservation but only had two smoking suites left.  I let out my breath, and
got ready to launch into a discussion of customer service, confirmed
reservations, occupancy rates and how miserable I felt at this time of
night.

Fernando stepped up beside me, placed his hand on my arm to restrain my
anger, and addressed the night clerk, "We had a director's room reserved.
Do you still have that available?"  At first, I thought him rather forward,
interrupting my conversation.  But from this man, I'd allow interruptions
any time; and having that hand on my arm could go on the rest of the
evening.

"And what is your name sir?" asked the night clerk.

"Señor Fernando Miguel Gabriel Corazón de Dios of Seville, Spain," he said.

"Yes sir, I still have that reservation.  That is a director's room with a
meeting room and two bedrooms.  We only have three of those, they are unique
accommodations and with confirmed reservations we hold them.  But, I'll be
with you as soon as I finish with Mr. Bricker."

"Señor Bricker," Fernando said," I know this is forward, but since the
director's suite is non-smoking would you care to take that?  I feel
obligated, since you were gracious enough to share the van."

"No, Señor Corazon I could not take your suite.  You have your two sons with
you, which would not be fair.  I'll take the smoking suite until a
non-smoking suite is available.  I can move later this week, hopefully
tomorrow."  Turning to the night clerk, I said, "There will be a non-smoking
suite available tomorrow won't there?"

"Mr. Bricker, the event in Brownsville has all of the hotels in Brownsville
and Edinburg booked for the rest of the week.  I don't see any rooms
becoming available until Friday when the convention closes."

"Then I insist that you take the director's suite," Fernando said, "Being
from Europe we are more familiar with smoking rooms, it is not such an issue
over there as it is here.  I'm sure we can get two rooms and make the
accommodations work for us."  He turned to the boys, "We can make this
adjustment for Mr. Bricker, can't we?"

Both boys nodded their heads.

"Señor Corazon," the night clerk said, "I still have a reservation for the
other regular suite, I couldn't give you two suites.  I have the director's
suite for you and one of the regular suites for Mr. Bricker."

I could see I was going to get stuck in a smoking room.  I might as well,
suck it up, and be a good sport.

"That's fine; I'll take the smoking room," I said, "It's late; let's just
get this over with.  Make me a room key and let's move on."  Grumbling has
never been something I do well.  Besides, it doesn't get you anywhere.

"No, wait, I insist that you take the director's suite," Fernando said, "and
the boys and I will take the smoking suite."

"No, I couldn't do that.  There's three of you and only one of me."  I
wouldn't put them out like that, although having them next door would be
nice.  It would be the dream I would be having tonight.

"Then you will share the director's suite with us.  The boys can sleep in my
room and you will have the other bedroom.  That is final.  We will not
negotiate this anymore."  He turned to the night clerk and said, "Please
make room keys for Mr. Bricker and us for the director's suite."

I started to protest and then my hormones started taking over.  I just stood
there dumbfounded while the night clerk made room keys for all of us.  I'm
not used to giving control of my schedule to my clients; here I was sharing
a room with a European and his two cute sons, and I'm not sure that we had
really done more than shake hands.  What was I doing, I was not only sharing
my room, or should I say their room, but I was with three guys that would
each bring me nocturnal dreams that every red-blooded gay guy would enjoy.

I was used to having a room all to myself.  I generally walk into the room,
turn up the air conditioning, and strip to my shorts.  I enjoy the freedom
of almost no clothes.  Sometimes it is no clothes, and other times its
briefs, silk shorts or jock straps.  What was I going to do with not just
Señor Corazon de Dios but the boys there?  I let myself get trapped and now
I was stuck.  I walked slowly out to the van.  I started opening the rear
and unloading the luggage.  Philippe came out with a bellman's cart.  Paulo
was skipping along behind.  They seemed very happy.  It was already 9:30pm,
I'd had over 11 hours of travel and now I was sharing a suite with three
Spaniards.  I'd really created a mess.  Why can't I just stand up for myself
and get things my way?

************

Coming up in the elevator I didn't know what to talk about.

"Please call me Fernando, and may I call you Adam?"

I guess that broke enough ice for all of us.

"Yes, surely.  In fact boys, please call me Adam also.  Since I don't have
children, I'm not used to being called `Mr.' Bricker," I said.

In fact, I really don't like the mister thing from kids.  It is an
artificial means of putting distance between adults and children, based on
an adult assumption that children don't know what's going on, have the
ability to understand adults and can't show respect any other way.  The fact
is I believe it's the adults that don't show enough respect of the kids.

We were up on the 14th floor.  Or was that really the 13th floor?  As in
most hotels, they really never have a 13th floor.  It's some superstition
and we all live with it.  Anyway, 1402 was the room number and it was the
top floor, corner or the building and had like I said before 2 bedrooms, a
sitting room, two bathrooms and a large meeting room for Fernando to work
in.  I guess we could make this work.

I took the right hand bedroom and Fernando started making arrangements with
the boys in the other bedroom.  I left the door open while I started
unpacking.  I felt it would be rude to close the door, almost as soon as we
entered the suite and shut myself off from them.

When I'm in a hotel room for a number of days, I actually unpack, while for
a single night or two I merely pull clothes out of the suitcase.  I just
don't see the usefulness of "unpacking" for a short time.  So I'm putting
pressed and folded shirts in the top drawer and reaching back in to the
suitcase for socks and underwear and Paulo walks in.

"Adam, I like briefs like yours," he says as he sits on the side of the bed.
  I'm no prude, but I'm also careful about whom I talk to about some
subjects and his father is in the next room.  What will he say and how do I
handle this discussion?  People can be so stressful.

"I guess whatever you get used to will do," I said.  I continued with,
"Where do you go to school?"  I felt this would sidetrack the underwear
discussion.

"We attend Felsted Preparatory boarding school in Feldsted, that's in Essex.
  That's where I see all types of underwear and I've decided that I really
like briefs.  Philippe says they are too tight and he gets wedgies with
briefs, but I like the feel.  They kind of cling and give you a secure
feeling.  Why do you like briefs?"

My god, what was I getting into?  Not only haven't I had this conversation
with my father, I'd never had this conversation with anyone else. Ever!
Besides, I think I was turning red.  I certainly was feeling warm.  I needed
to get out of here, or get Paulo out of my room while I regrouped and
figured out what I was going to do to handle a very precocious 9 year old.

"Paulo, I'm really tired, I need to get some rest tonight before my meeting.
  I think you're going to have to let me go to sleep now."  I didn't know
any better way to give myself distance and safety.  I'm sure there was a
better approach I should have been using, but flight was the best defense
when faced with sure embarrassment.

"Sure Adam, I just figured your briefs would be tight with that tent you've
had in the front since we met you," he said and calmly walked out.  I closed
the door.  I was shaking and sweating.  How could I deal with this kid if he
kept pushing himself into me, asking me questions about my preferences in
briefs, talking about the obvious tent that I had been trying to ignore and
just looking like god's gift to the world?  I didn't know what else to do.
I walked back to the bed and lay down.  I needed to calm down before
anything else happened.

Sometime around midnight I must have finally dozed off and gone to sleep.

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