December 27, 2004

Rat Story- Part I

It took me a little longer than I expected to get around to the rat story, but finally I've done it.

It all begins with a clogged up toilet. No one mentioned it, of course. I just found it there, like I'm sure we've all done a time or two, or ten. It's a weird sort of horrible surprise though, isn't it? One has certain expectations when one heads into the bathroom, and after all, one is on their way for a reason and they have a definite purpose. It's not just a sight seeing trip. And even if it was I don't suppose that's the sort of sight one would seek out, certainly not intentionally, not in a conscious way, unless something were wrong with them.

Anyhow, I had arrived to take care of business, so to speak, and I find the damned thing clogged, totally stopped up. I think it's natural at that point to wonder for a second or two if maybe you should just go ahead and flush it. See what happens. Maybe it'll just clear, and all go normally down the drain. There's a good chance that whatever it was that created the problem is . . . less of an obstacle, because some time has passed. But it's a risk.

At this point one usually wonders if they have a plunger. And if so, where it is exactly. And if it's not too far away, then maybe it would be a good idea to lay a hand on it and get to work plunging. This is pretty much what I'd resigned myself to do when the toilet started to clear, on it's own. That's a nice turn of . . . events, I thought.

So I unbuckled my belt, I never pee through the fly, and prepared to get on with it, when something totally unexpected happened.

A rat leapt out of the toilet.

I yelled and got the hell out of there, at once. When I went back in to see what was what, my shoes were still there, sitting side by side, about eight inches apart, right in front of the toilet. That rat bastard had scared me right out of my shoes. That's no lie. Then I decided to go and get a mop. That was the best I could come up with spur of the moment. So I got a mop. Then I went back in to look for him.

I'm not sure what I would've done with the mop, had I found him. Thinking back I suppose I could have pinned him to the floor with it until he starved to death. Or something.

After a few seconds there with the mop I decided I ought to add a shovel to my arsenal. This was some progress, I thought. One could actually kill a rat with a shovel, if one got him into the open long enough to deliver a solid lick. Alright then I've got the ending. I've got the beginning. All I need now is the middle, and then we'll call it a story. I would need a little help, as usual, with the middle. So I called on Rose.

Just stand here for a second while I work this out, OK? I asked her. And tell me if you see anything suspicious. Anything suspicious? Other than you here barefoot holding a mop? She inquired. Ha. Ha. I replied.

After a minute or two, I hatched a plan.