2004-06-10 - 12:50 a.m.
THE BAT
So. The bat! That was crazy. We were at our new house, right, just hanging out and doing new house things. And my sweetums walks into the as-yet unstocked and unfurnished kitchen and flips on the light.
I come in a few steps behind her when I hear "what's that on the ceiling up there?" I look up and see for myself and my blood runs cold! My memories have just been sold! My angel is... sorry.
Like it was happening in slow motion, I reached out to grab her, to stop her from going any farther. But her shoulder was just out of reach! I call out "Chhhhhaaaaaaarrrrrr..." when WHAT should fly down off the wall but... well, a bat. I guess I haven't built up the suspense very well.
You may remember my mouse post from days gone by. Well, let me tell you, friends and neighbors. You can take her standard mouse reaction, multiply that by a million to the power of 10, and you might be somewhere in the vicinity of one half of what her "bat flying down off the ceiling at her head" reaction is.
After I dragged her out and slapped her about the face to bring her back around, I had to try figuring out how to get the stupid bat out. He stayed in the kitchen and he just wasn't moving. I had half a mind to call my dad, as he's the resident bat remover at my house, but I thought "No. This is MY house. Today I am a man."
Then it came flying at me and I screamed and ran out of the room. But then I regrouped! I put on some work gloves, yeah I did. I grabbed a yardstick, yup yup uh-huh. The yardstick wasn't ideal, but I was a little short on available weaponry.
My plan, since there was little chance of coaxing the bat to fly through 4-5 rooms and exit the premesis, was to take the yardstick and beat the guano out of it. But I made two fatal miscalculations. One, bats are quick. Two, yardsticks are extremely narrow.
So I'm in there swinging for a while until I realize that it's not working. But what else can I do? We haven't yet packed up our sporting supplies so that a bat through which you play baseball, or perhaps a tennis racquet, was available so I could bring him to his doom.
But then I saw it. A fairly long, not terribly thick but sturdy cardboard tube, like the kind you'd store posters in. I think they had wallpaper borders or something in them, I don't really know. But I picked that up and went back to work.
The bat came down off the wall, screeching and flapping his wings, and I swung! Strike one. Not wanting him to nest in my hair, I quickly spun around and swung again! Strike two!
I turned around again, expecting to see him hovering there in front of me. But no! My opponent had worn himself out, dancing and bobbing and flapping and flying. He'd grabbed onto the wall for a rest. So I swung that cardboard tube and... BIF! POW! SPLAT! HOME RUN!
But the bat was not dead, oh no. Not even my mighty pythons carry a lethal blow when all I have is a tube of cardboard. But he WAS stunned. So I quickly picked him up, and thankfully I had on gloves cause uucccck ewwww ajahaglapahada bleh. And I RAN through the house, went out onto the porch, and threw him out into the air. The bat flapped his wings and flew away.
That's the end... for now. I suspect that we may see him again some day. (a spooky wolf gives a spooky howl in the distance)
Anyway, that's what happened with that stupid bat. I know I said I'd talk about the new house, but this took longer than I thought.
I will tell you THIS, though. You remember my butt relative who's employer's butt business I've been doing work for, I'm sure. I got an e-mail last week from the secretary who said they wanted to see me for "a meeting". They suggested Thursday, and I replied "all right, what time Thursday?" Typically, I have yet to receive a reply.
I don't even know what they want, and if they want to stop paying me I could really care less at this point. I'll be gone after next month anyway. But still, I despise them so much that I'm really not looking forward to this at all. AT ALL. Damn their souls.
BYE
