At check-in I had made the mistake of asking for a wake-up call and the motelier had looked at me as though I was a visitor from an earlier time zone.
"Wake-up call!" he said with that look on his face normally only displayed by teenagers when their parents enthuse over the Rolling Stones or dance the twist.
"Your room has a clock radio beside the bed."
You'd think I had asked him to send a telegram by horseman. I was clearly such a risible relic from the past that I chose not to admit my incompetence.
I just smiled to indicate that I was pleased - indeed privileged - to have chosen to stay in a motel with such modern conveniences.
"Wow! I bet the toaster even has a 'golden' setting," I thought, but gave it no voice.
You see, the truth is, I'm afraid of clock radios. My fear is two-pronged and the first prong is based on my lack of technical expertise. Please don't laugh.
To me a clock radio is high-tech and setting one correctly is beyond me (my talents lie in other areas).
I am also aware that there is an alarm on my phone but that, too, is out of my league.
I can text and make phone calls and that's sophisticated enough for me.
Restaurants aside, virtually anything with a "menu" is out of my league. Especially if you have to scroll.
The second prong of my fear is based on past experience. In the early days of clock radios, I had set one to wake me at 6am and it failed me. Apparently it went off 12 hours later which was not much use to anyone. (I have since mastered the concept of am and pm.)
But the worst experience was when I was deep in motel slumber one night and, at 4am precisely, I was exploded from my sleep by the digital clock alarm.
It must have been set the previous night by someone catching an early international flight and then not switched off or reset - or whatever you do with such sophisticated gadgetry.
With the speed and agility of a karate black belt, I had leapt from my bed, torn the entire device from the wall and hurled it across the room.
Since then, I have made it a habit when I walk into a motel room to turn off the digital clock straight away.
This, even before checking out the mini-bar. To be extra sure, I also pull the plug from the wall socket.
This time, however, I felt I had to conquer my fear, learn how to set it, be woken by it.
The am/pm factor wasn't going to fool me again. I also ignored the "snooze" button, which I see as a soft option. I set the alarm for 6.30am.
I'm one of those strange beings who wake up early anyway. If I have to wake up earlier than usual for a flight or the like, I'm always awake and alert well before the needed time.
So it was this time. I was sitting up in bed sipping my second cup of coffee, quite forgetting that I had mastered the alarm the previous night.
At precisely 6.30am, a man's voice disturbed me, gave me the fright of my life.
The "intruder" was only a couple of feet away from me. I didn't have time to register that he was a radio announcer before I lashed out to defend myself. It is my heartfelt wish that, if or when I retire, my farewell gift is not a clock radio.
Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, a writer, public speaker and musician.
