2004-08-16 - 9:46 a.m. Bats in the Belfry This weekend was summed up with a very simple event that scared the crap out of me. Literally. I visited my friend in my hometown on Sunday night, and after a bit, I need to �make a deposit� in the water bank. So I was sitting, exposed, on the porcelain, and I looked over at door, which was now shut and saw this big leaf on my friend towel. Funny, I thought, that�s a strange colored leaf, considering its not the fall. Then I focused a little more, and realized that leaf was furry. My brain went straight into denial. �That�s not a bat. The window is closed, I am inside, it a tiny room, There is simply no way that this was a bat.� So as soon as I realized I was talking myself OUT of reality, I quickly finished my initial transaction, and re-clothed myself. I tore the toilet seat cover seeing that I felt this was my best defense between the sleeping bat, and my face. It's rather silly to think of myself cowering behind the mighty sheild of a fuzzy toilet seat cover, but there we are.
I started to wonder, as I saw the towel over the handle of the bathroom door, bat literally sleeping right above the handle, how the hell was I getting out. I couldn�t wait it out. It was already dusk, which of course meant it was waking up soon, but I also couldn�t just trot over there and leave the room. I did the only thing a man could do in this situation. Meekly cry for help. I didn�t want to be too loud, and awake the sleeping varmint. In the back of my mind I feared that this might actually be Dracula, but thankfully I had some nasty garlic bread not even an hour and a half prior. My two friends heard my cries for salvation, and lucky for me being either trusting or lazy (you pick) I hadn�t locked the bathroom door. Without exactly informing them about their situation, I had them open the door slowly so that if it attacked or trans-morphed into a vampire I could escape. It remained sleeping. Kerbang, being the boyscout (a blessing and a curse), was elected to capture the creature, and he did so by pancaking it between two towels. As is crawled around in his grasped we released it into the wild. I am not lying, but nearly 30 minutes later, after our victory my friend cried out, �They�re back, Another one, THE BAT.� And the four of us dropped to the ground ( and I am talking as if someone yelled �grenade� ) and huddled together under the table in girly man form. After the new bat stopped fluttering around we located it on the curtain in the corner of the room. We went with the catch and released plan again, but this bat, bigger than the last one (and it had fangs, and I think it looked at me and also it might have used mind control) took to the air again, making four grown men crawl on their bellies like some sort of at home boot camp drill. Anyway, Datchery, being the younger boyscout on the scene, was elected to do the dirty work this time, and did so successfully as we released the bat back into the wild. However, in the end, the scariest part of the whole night was in all the chaos I had forgotten to do something. I never washed my hands. | |||||||||||
