I was lost on a sea of gravy, floating in a raft made of waffle fries when the desk bell rang. Ding, ding. Get up, Mike, you’re not allowed to sleep here, a voice said. I woke up confused and drooling. Where am I? Why is Todd Campbell standing over me, looking un-impressed? Oh yeah. We haven’t even started the overnight shift at the Super 8 Motel and I’m already sleeping. Dreaming vividly, in fact. It was actually a recurring nightmare. Eventually I eat the raft, get rescued by Fudgie the ice cream cake whale, abandoned by Fudgie (I nibbled a little at his cookie crust), and wash up on a hostile mashed potato island covered with dinner roll boulders and cascading butter water falls. It always ends just as the island’s evil turkey queen is about to use me as a poultry thermometer.

Not everyone, obviously, is cut out to be a motel night auditor. Campbell’s been at it for seven years, the last two with the Super 8 in Norwich. It’s his job – and he’s a solo artist, folks – to make sure the motel runs smoothly at the most critical time: When guests are trying to get some sleep.

“You want to make the guests feel as at home as possible,” said Campbell. “You want to provide them with a stress-free environment.”