Sleepless in El Paso

I fell asleep momentarily in the middle of the night.  Normally, that wouldn't be a concern except that I had a microphone in front of me and was broadcasting to at least seven listeners.

I was working the overnight shift at a rock station in El Paso and I was actually making money.  Granted, I could have made more money by picking up dog poop and, certainly, the work would have been more consistent; but that wasn't really the point.  I was raking in well over six dollars an hour and that wasn't even counting the occasional free albums and T-shirts.  Twice in one month, a gift certificate for a large pizza was bestowed upon me.  My wife, at the time, had concerns about my career choice.  She was more practical and I was a dreamer--literally.

By the third week of overnights, sleep deprivation had begun to take its toll.  Pumping caffeine directly into my veins while doing jumping jacks during a long song, eventually had no affect and my mind yielded to the Sandman.  I will never forget waking up, looking down at the live microphone and realizing that there was an audible sound coming from my mouth.  I woke up hearing myself saying the word, "donkey."  Donkey?!!  What the hell had I just said?  How long had I been talking about donkeys?  So, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind which was "who doesn't love donkeys?"  Of course, I followed that up with "and thanks for listening."  To this day, I have no idea what I was saying.  Since no one complained, I can only assume that the subject matter went well with the Pink Floyd I was playing at 3:15 in morning.