When I was in the DR, we had two "watch guards" who would keep watch at night. Read: we had two "watch guards" who would fall asleep as soon as we were all in our room, and then wake up mangled and disgruntled at 5 am in time for us to wake up and see them walking around.
We called them "Watchee."
(To be read in a very sneaky, snake-life voice. Watcheeeeeee.)
They were not fans of the name. Which may have been why they decided we weren't worth guarding.
One time, we caught Watchee #1 asleep. Normal. However, there was a huge tarantula about 12 inches from his face. Not normal. You could see it just waiting, watching. Waiting and watching watcheeeeeeeee. We tried to wake Watchee up (which led us to realize we didn't actually know his name--they weren't big on mingling--so we proceeded to keep whispering Watcheeeee very sternly until he woke up, pissed. Waking up is rough. Waking up to a nickname you hate it worse.). We pointed to the tarantula, now a mere six inches away. Watchee glared at us, laid back down and fell asleep.
Lesson #1: Sleep trumps tarantulas, every time.
Another night, we woke up to Spanish radio blaring outside our window. The rays of dawn were just coming up, and everything was hazy and calm. The music was bumping. Straight up Spanish club beats rockin' us awake. And then we heard Watchee #2 make a discreet call to the radio station and play a request. Instantly, it went from bumpin' club music to a melodic, dramatic Spanish love song. Oh, Watcheeeeeeeee.
Lesson #2: You never know who has a surprising soft side.