Some of you know this story already, but I promised I’d blog it anyway:
So, last week, there’s about five of us chilling in our living room on a Saturday night. It’s about 12:30, we were having a few cocktails and the night’s starting to wind down.
We were about halfway through Grandma’s Boy (unreal movie, btw) when some creature comes whizzing by real quick, past the T.V. and into the pitch-black kitchen.
No one really knew what had just happened (note: we were under the influence) and we all just kinda looked at one another like…”Um..what was that?”
Your first instinct in this type of situation is to assume it was a bird. Or at least hope. Pray. ‘Cause you know if it ain’t a bird, it can only be one other thing: a gross, scary, slimy yet fury, BAT.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I hate animals (outside of dogs, fish, and koala bears) and I’m especially terrified of snakes, rats/mice and bats – just grimy critters whose quick movements make it impossible to predict their next move.
So we slowly get up off the couch and venture into the kitchen. As soon as we turn on the lights, we see that fury winged creature. The thing whizzes by as we all duck (and maybe scream..not me though). The bat keeps flying back-and-forth now, over our heads.
The only thought in my mind is that this gross, disease-infested thing is going to run into me and get caught in my hair. So at this point I’m ready to do anything to stop it. As it comes by on one of its fly-bys, I reach for a beer bottle, think the better of it, and instead grip the next closest thing – a bottle of ketchup – and sling it toward the beast.
Now it misses the bat, hits the wall and explodes in a way that it makes a semi-rainbow type line of ketchup on our wall. Couldn’t do it again if I tried, it was like a movie. And even though the throw missed, it was close enough to scare the bat. Now it was sitting upside down like it was in a cave, but it was clinging to the Red BU jersey we have hanging on the wall.
At this point, a few of us grab weapons: mop, broom, plastic cover to a storage tub. You know, the essentials. We prod it with the weaps and toward the open porch door where we think it flew in.
Not knowing if we’re out of the woods yet, we creep along toward the porch door, which conveniently is in between the stairs to the attic bedrooms and the stairs to the front door downstairs.
Three different places it could have went.
One of my roommates (who lives in the top attic rooms) starts to tip-toe up, broom in tow. Would you want the uncertainty of whether there was a bat hiding in your dark, attic room? Didn’t think so.
As he goes up, I check down the stairs…only to see the Dark Knight flapping his wings right toward me. I shout: “There it is!” not knowing that my roommate – blinded by both darkness and fear – would assume I meant I saw the bat near him.
So he comes down the stairs swinging a broom like McGwire and I start to inch down the front steps to get this thing. I’m fed up at this point and just want to kill it (sorry PETA).
Luckily, we had an unreal athlete with us who scaled down our top porch and was able to open the front door. Now, I said unreal athlete, not superhero. He was just as confused/scared as anyone and wouldn’t go back in after he opened the door.
So we have the bat cornered, it’s almost over. We just have to go down with the weaps, use the storage tub cover as a shield and poke the thing with a broom or mop until it flies out.
Easier said than done. The critter was a smart lil guy and was hiding under some junk in the foyer. I don’t wanna get too close. I mean, a quick Wikipedia search shows that “about 70% of bats are insectivores. Of the remainder, most feed on fruits and their juices; three species sustain themselves with blood and some prey on vertebrates.”
Blood? Blood?? Like in the movies. I felt like a Batman villain when they finally get locked up or put in a psych ward only to have non-stop visions of a bat flying at them in a dim lit area.
Eventually, the bat surfaces from under the radiator, only to be met with my quick mop strike. Nervous it’s going to fly back up into my face, I keep whacking at it – ready to kill it or drive it out, whatever it takes.
The chaos was enough to send the creature scurrying out the front door and bat to wherever it came from (aka: right back on our roof probably).
Bat gone. Drama over. Crisis adverted.
For now anyways….