Where do I even begin...?
Well, I should probably begin with me, I guess. I am sometimes a little paranoid and irrational, as well as a jumpy son of a gun. Once I was out at picnic point with Lia and Elsworth and JV, and there was some animal getting in the trash about 20 feet from us. I was terrified; I "hid" by standing up on a bench, huddling behind Lia, and watching what I thought was a bear. I'm pretty sure I ran back to the car, and if you have ever met me, it's probably pretty clear that running does not happen too often in my life. Later, my father made fun of me severely, taunting me with "Oh yes, Reemie, I'm sure there are many bears in Madison. Yes, I'm sure they spend time right by the university with all the young people drinking. In the middle of a mid-sized city with a population of a few hundred thousand people." You get the idea. He was probably right though. I was being pretty irrational. It was most likely a raccoon. Maybe a giant, horse sized raccoon, but a raccoon nonetheless.
Another time, when I was 23 and working in a preschool in the basement of a church, it was my job to open the building in the mornings. I was alone in the dark classroom, and I went into the kids bathroom to make sure there was toilet paper. I looked around, and all of a sudden something caught my eye. There was a dead mouse floating in the toilet! I screamed and backed away. Why did I scream? I don't know. The mouse was clearly dead. I was alone. Nothing was going to happen. Still, I screamed. I knew the kids would be coming within the next fifteen minutes, and there would be a lot more screams (probably a lot cuter than mine) if I didn't take care of the situation. I put on two pairs of gloves - one latex and one of those yellow rubber dishwashing ones - and lifted the mouse out of the toilet. I think I may have put it in the trash...I don't remember. What I do remember is bumping into a door afterwards and having somebody's jacket fall off the door onto the floor. The sudden noise made my heart jump and I screamed again. Because of a jacket calling on the floor. A jacket and a dead mouse...and a blood curdling scream. It's a little ridiculous, don't you think?
But tonight. Tonight was different. The screaming and the heart jumping and the slamming of the doors and almost crying and sending out frantic texts was all totally rational tonight. You know why? Because there was a fucking BAT in my apartment. Right in my living room, flying back and forth into my kitchen. A bat. Fuck...
I had just returned home from a lovely evening at the High Noon, where there was a benefit for lovely Miss Erika. I'd also made a lovely stop at lovely Taco Bell because damn, I wanted a quesadilla up in here. I sat on my couch, watching the television a bit, checking the email a bit...all the usual. All of a sudden, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. What the fuck?? There's this monster of a creature flying over my head and zipping by right in front of my face. I cower on the couch with my legs flailing up in the air, brandishing a pillow over my head as I let out short little gasps and screams. The airborne monster flies back and forth from my kitchen to my living room, which is really just one big space, never stopping to land a single time. At this point I am absolutely freaking out. I HATE flying animals in any buildings; even birds in airports or Sam's Club creep me out, although they have all that wide open space. I've seen birds get in the house before, but never a bat. I was absolutely terrified.
I ran into my bedroom and slammed the door shut. I'd peek out from time to time, only to see the giant bat flying back and forth at breakneck speed. Several times, it seemed to turn and start flying right towards my hiding spot behind the door. At those points, I would once again slam the door. I'm sure my brand new downstairs neighbors appreciated this at 11:30 on a school night. I didn't know what to do, so I tried several things, all of which were stupid and pointless and did not help the situation. I threw a pillow across the room, and the bat ignored it. I ran across the room and opened the door to the hallway, which the bat went nowhere near. I managed to frantically gather my phone and computer (and for some reason, turn off the television) while the bat was in the kitchen for a minute. I ran back into my room and slammed the door again, bracing myself for a long night of being held hostage in my very own bedroom. Suck!
At this point I'm very close to crying. I send out a frantic text message to four people, only TWO of whom answered (Schabow and Uncle Juice, you two are in the dog house until further notice). And here, my friends, is where I must thank my lucky stars for the one and only Miss Genia, who called me back within minutes. She sounded slightly amused on the phone, and about ten trillion times calmer than I felt, and she said she'd come over. "I'm actually kind of excited about it," she confessed. Well Genia, your adventure is my nightmare. Keep that in mind.
Genia is a life saver. She came right over, instructed me to stay in the bathroom, grabbed a broom and a giant towel and was off on her way to save the day! As I sat, biting my nails and cringing, listening at the door to hear the action, I heard Genia calmly talking to the bat, saying such soothing things as "don't be stupid, little bat! Get out that door!" Through some act of brilliant genius, or talent, or whatever, she was able to get the bat out the back door and out onto the lanai. I cried a few tears of joy, and several tears of horror and hugged Genia as hard as I could. Now that's one badass woman right there.
Since I was in no shape to be in the same room whilst the great bat chase of 2008 was taking place, and I couldn't have asked Genia to do anything else, no pictures were taken. You know what you do when you can't get live pictures? You reenact. Below are the reenactment pictures of Genia fighting like a warrior and me acting like a total boner in the bathroom. Notice the one of me with my head down. I was most likely crying like a toddler during that one.
Genia wields her broom of steel:
Genia wields her towel of steel:
Reem bites her nails in the bathroom like a total boner:
So yes, I'm terrified of a tiny little animal, which you all may find ridiculous, or hilarious. ButI know deep in your heart that one or two of you must be a bit concerned. What of the repercussions, you may ask? What of the victim in the this story? Yes, I may have acted like a wiener, but damn, this was a bit scarring! I can guarantee you that if I even end up sleeping tonight, the sleep will be oft interrupted by dreams of bats, intermingled with pirate ships and homework, I'm sure. Even as I sit here writing this, every time I close my eyes, I imagine a red tunnel with hundred of bats flying right towards me. And for some reason, the tunnel looks like the inside of a throat and the bats are all cartoons. Every noise I hear when I'm on my own will make me jump. I'll have to sleep with all the windows and doors closed for weeks to come. I'll be frightened every time I open a drawer or the refrigerator - maybe a bat will fly out! Every shadow I see will make me run under the covers or put up the hood of my jacket. I'll be forced to keep my hair in a ponytail just in case a bat gets in and tried to get all tangled up in my hair. I won't open my mouth for fear of a bat appearing and flying directly into it. Anybody remember the Simpsons episode where there are rats running around and Bart yells "Milhouse, don't open your mouth!" and as soon as he does, a bunch of rats land directly inside? Yeah. That's how it feels.
Xiao and see if he could help me. I considered living in a hotel for the rest of my life. I most likely considered calling YOU. Look what you could have been a part of!
So that's the story of the bat. And how I, as a grown ass women, still act like a total baby. A paranoid, neurotic baby. Waa waa. Eat it.
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