Today is to just milk your bad mood for all it's worth.
Reader Jennifer Garam read Tracy Lyons' bat story from Monday and decided to challenge her, story-wise. Not only does she have a horrific story about a cockroach on her blog, she contributed her own bat story. Can you top hers? I'd like to see.
Sex & the City & a Bat by Jennifer Garam
A few weeks ago I was bounding down the stairs of my building (I usually take the elevator), on my way to return a Sex & the City, Season 3 DVD, and when I got to the landing above the first floor, I saw something spastically swooping back and forth between the front door and the elevator. It looked like a bat, which is totally weird, because I don't live in the country, which I imagine to be the land of bats swooping (among other things). I live in Brooklyn. I kind of thought I could make a break for the front door but that bat was intense and then I really thought no way in hell.
I stood, frozen, when a guy, a man, entered the building. "Um, that's a bat, right?"
"Yup," he said.
Cool. Well, sort of cool, but really not cool at all. I just wanted some bat-confirmation. I didn't want to be that hysterical, easily-excitable, over-reactive girl calling to complain to the Super only to hear, "Jen, that's a sparrow."
I waited. Surely the guy, the man, would take care of things. After a few moments, this was me: "Um, hello?" and this was him: Gone.
I went back up to my apartment. I called a girl who lives in the building. She would know what to do. She owns a step-ladder. But I got her voicemail. I called a guy who lives in the building who also seemed into home-repair. He was at a pizza place nearby and said he would leave and be right there to check out the scene/bat. I called the video store and requested that they not charge me a late fee as I wanted to return their DVD, I was trying to return their DVD, I was just being held hostage in my apartment by a spastic bat. "Maybe you could like, put a note in your system?" I suggested. "Like, 'waive fee re: bat?'"
When the home-improvement guy got home, there was no bat. I never heard what happened to it - did it fly out the way it had come in? Did someone trap it, and then set it free? I half-suspected I would see a little bat-chalk outline and police tape, but that didn't happen either. And most certainly, as I was cowering in my apartment, I did not get to be the building hero.
What did happen is, I didn't have to pay a late fee for Sex & the City when I returned it to the video store the next day, and I felt a sort of knowing camaraderie with the guy working behind the counter re: bat. By the way, if you are looking for an excuse to get out of your video store late fee, this might not be a bad one to try.
I stood, frozen, when a guy, a man, entered the building. "Um, that's a bat, right?"
"Yup," he said.
Cool. Well, sort of cool, but really not cool at all. I just wanted some bat-confirmation. I didn't want to be that hysterical, easily-excitable, over-reactive girl calling to complain to the Super only to hear, "Jen, that's a sparrow."
I waited. Surely the guy, the man, would take care of things. After a few moments, this was me: "Um, hello?" and this was him: Gone.
I went back up to my apartment. I called a girl who lives in the building. She would know what to do. She owns a step-ladder. But I got her voicemail. I called a guy who lives in the building who also seemed into home-repair. He was at a pizza place nearby and said he would leave and be right there to check out the scene/bat. I called the video store and requested that they not charge me a late fee as I wanted to return their DVD, I was trying to return their DVD, I was just being held hostage in my apartment by a spastic bat. "Maybe you could like, put a note in your system?" I suggested. "Like, 'waive fee re: bat?'"
When the home-improvement guy got home, there was no bat. I never heard what happened to it - did it fly out the way it had come in? Did someone trap it, and then set it free? I half-suspected I would see a little bat-chalk outline and police tape, but that didn't happen either. And most certainly, as I was cowering in my apartment, I did not get to be the building hero.
What did happen is, I didn't have to pay a late fee for Sex & the City when I returned it to the video store the next day, and I felt a sort of knowing camaraderie with the guy working behind the counter re: bat. By the way, if you are looking for an excuse to get out of your video store late fee, this might not be a bad one to try.