August 25th, 2003



Rats. First there was a huge pile of junk left by the previous tenants. Then, there was the incident with the raw sewage backing up into the basement. Now: rats. RATS, dude.

Those who know me know that, despite my rough exterior, I am scared out of my balls of rats and mice. It's amazing that I ever had a hamster.

It all started on Saturday when I heard some scurrying in the walls of the garage. Scurry scurry scurry. Silence. Throw something against the wall, scurry scurry scurry. Fuck. I plugged in one of those ultrasonic pest repellents in the garage and that seemed to piss him off a bit, but he's still living in there. At least one of him... maybe more. Scurry scurry scurry. No wonder there's so many friggin' cats hanging around. This morning I open the garage and I pick up a screw and fling it at the wall and I SEE him through the boards that make up the back wall. He looks BIG. Bigger than my hamster big. Fucker.

At least I was able to make my peace with the garage rat. Susie told me that we'd just have to learn to be friends and even though I'm scared to death of him coming out of the wall and running up my pant leg while I'm working on a bike or something, I decided to live and let live and just leave him be. I was working on the Rally yesterday and I'd work for a while, hear him scurry scurry scurry, tell him to keep quiet and stay in there, and he'd comply. Nice little working relationship.

Last night, as we're getting ready for bed, I walk into the room and I hear something that stops just as I walk in. So I stand in silence for like five minutes until Susie walks in. I tell her that I'm hearing things and that fully freaks her shit, so now we're both freaked. Despite the freakiness, we climb into bed and decide to sleep with the light on for a while.

A while after that, we wake up and decide we're ok and turn off the light. Then, somewhere around 3:30 we both FREAK THE FUCK OUT because we can hear scurrying in the walls, or in the room, or in the vents or somefuckingwhere and it's LOUD. Dude. So scary to wake up to. The next couple of hours are spent banging on the walls and checking the vents and thinking about getting a big old mean and hungry cat and trying to figure out where he is until we finally hear him running around in the attic. He sounds BIG. Like the size of a small dog.

At that point, I actually felt a little better. I'm pretty sure he can't get into the house from the attic, because the walls are stuffed with this weird sand-like insulation that nothing could possibly burrow through. Not sure if he could get into the vents from up there, but I think no. We decide to sleep in the guest room (because we don't hear him from there) with the light on and Susie's computer on and a fan on to provide enough white noise to mask him out, should he still make any noise.

Today, Susie's gonna call the property management people and see about getting him and his garage buddy exterminated. She also said that if they won't take care of it, then she'll put traps up there herself because she's not a big old pathetic wuss like me. I'm not going up there. Ever.

So... that's my weekend.
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