The Bat Story

                The week of the infestation was, like, the hottest week ever. It was so hot that I would have gladly water boarded myself. IT WAS SO HOT. I felt bad for poor Amara who was staying at my house for the week because she was expecting fun and True Blood and we got terrorism and the surface of the sun. Well my scary old haunted house that I live in doesn’t have air-conditioning so we slept with fans blasting in our faces.

                That night Amara was sleeping on the couch and I went up to my bedroom, took off all my clothes, and pointed the fan directly on my moist, naked body. I was sleeping like a sound little baby when in the dead of night, I felt something tickle my thigh. Thinking that the fan was blowing the sheet on me, I swiped it away and then all of the sudden- SOMETHINGGRABBEDMYFINGER. I heard fluttering around the room and I look at my window and a bat was climbing up the screen with its little finger wings.

                As I was having a mild stroke, I pulled some jeans on over my tight, sculpted figure and ran downstairs…

This is me having a mild stroke-

Me: Amara! Amara ohmygod. There’s a bat it my room! Amara, there’s a bat in my room!

Amara: (sleepily) What? No, Brad just go back to bed.

Me: No! Amara I’m serious-

                And then out of nowhere the bat flew down the stairs and we both screamed and ran up to my room, we checked for baby bats, and then went to bed. The next morning, we creeped downstairs and found it snuggled in the crown molding in my kitchen. Knowing exactly what to do, we put plastic, grocery bags over our heads so it wouldn’t get caught in our hair and decided to spray the bat with Pam and bathroom cleaner to disorient it. So while holding brooms and spraying it with our good idea the bat just got pissed off and crawled deeper into the crack in the wall.

                Amara and I looked at each other like, “Well now what?” when the bat abruptly attacked! Fearing it would use Bite or Leech Life (both of which would be super effective) we swung our brooms at the bat while falling on the floor looking like we were trying to do the Bernie while having epileptic seizures. The scene sort of looked like this- 

                Instead of using my shotgun (broom) to blow it (smack it with my Ethiopian arms) to smithereens, we sat in the kitchen thinking of what to do next when that Dracula-whore started crawling horizontally across the brick wall like some possessed Reagan shit. AND THEN because it hadn’t had enough fun the first time, it started flying at us over and over again. It was as if it knew air force training combat and we were like helpless, screeching kittens with plastic bags over our heads. Keep in mind that every time the bat flies at us, Amara is still sitting in the kitchen chair and I’m standing behind her and we’re hitting nothing but air with our brooms. The final time it came around, Amara was so frustrated that she screamed, “GET OUT, FUCKER!”  And it did! We both high fived and sat back down in front of the TV.

                I looked closer at my finger and I realized the horrible. I had been bitten. My firm, sexy body had been violated. There were two, tiny, little bite marks in my left finger and I knew that I had to get rabies shots. I called my dad and he set up an appointment for me and then said, “Why didn’t you catch it? You could have had the bat tested for rabies instead.” Like I’m going to catch the devil and keep him safe in my Tupperware. Then, the next day I’m on my way to the hospital and my mom calls…

Mom: Hey whatcha doin’?

Me: Um… I’m on my way to the hospital to get rabies shots because I got bit by a bat.

Mom: WHAT?

Me: Yeah I didn’t want you to worry so…

My dad told me later that she said to him on the phone, “Why didn’t you or Brad tell me that he got bit by a bat?! Did everyone think I was going to FREAK OUT OR SOMETHING?!?!”

                 Four doctors at the hospital were like, “Why didn’t you catch it so you wouldn’t have to go through this?” Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was supposed to catch my own rapist! So I had to get four shots directly in my finger and four in my arms and then I was supposed to go back three times after that for more shots but I was so over it. I might have rabies now but it’s whatever.

Amara was leaving that week to move back into her apartment and like, three days after the bat incident she couldn’t find her keys. We’re looking around the house and she looks under her suitcase and they’re not there. So she looks around the house and comes back to her suitcase… checks under it again… and… there was another effing bat pinned under her suitcase.

That's me and that's Amara scared out of our minds.

                It was the worst thing ever. We had to get an exterminator and seal up the house and apparently there was another bat on the other side of the house where the straight boys live. That week at Barnes and Noble everyone called me “Bat Boy” which I guess was clever and hilarious. What is to be learned from this story? I’ve learned that bats are like rapists. And I found these steps on WikiHow to remove a bat/rapist from your house.

1.       Allow the rapist to land.

2.       Pick up the rapist if necessary.

3.       Coax the rapist down from high places.

4.       Carry the rapist outside- Set the trapped rapist on the ground some distance from your house. Close the door so that the rapist does not accidently come inside and rape you again.

5.       Help the rapist if it seems fatigued.

6.       Take care using your hands directly- You should wear leather gloves. Do not squeeze too tightly. 

Auschwitz: An Adventure

When I moved back from Orlando I knew that I would need a roommate but after some of my past roommate experiences I wasn’t that excited. I mean, ever since Mu I always look through all of my roommates things to see if I can find anything criminalizing so that I have leverage to blackmail them if I need to. That doesn’t make me creepy. That makes me creepy smart.

Actually I never looked through my roommate, Megan’s things because she was so open that I searching was pointless. For example…

“Everyone’s looking at me because I’m not wearing a bra but I sort of love it.”

“I bought thirteen bottles of wine tonight and I already drank two of them!”

“I had the best day ever! I drank a Sundrop and got a smoothie from McDonald’s and then I watched four episodes of CSI and had sex with myself three times!!”

So I got on the good ol’ Craigslist thinking I was going to have to live with another straight guy who liked cars and football and couldn’t appreciate Florence and the Machine let alone the supercute boots I just bought. But then Craig did me a giant favor. On his list he delivered me Josh. At first I didn’t understand the sort of queeny quest Josh and I would embark upon. After several e-mails I looked him up on Facebook and discovered our only friend in common was Stupid Head. (Stupid Head is my ex who cheated on me and lied to me and told me that he wanted to break up with me four months before he could work up the balls to do it. But it’s totally cool because he’s a college dropout and a never-nude.) But it turned out that they only hung out once, lalala, I’m really frickin’ jaded.

Anyway, so Josh moves in and immediately I’m like the worst roommate ever. Within thirty minutes I tell him the story about Mu and how I intentionally broke his alarm clock. So you know, I’m starting off with a great first impression. And then the next day I was like, “You have friends, right? Because my old roommate didn’t and he was really weird so…” So now I’m REALLY on a roll. Meanwhile all my dishes are lying around everywhere and he’s discovering all the things around the house that don’t work.

“Ope yeah, Josh. So don’t close the bathroom door all the way because you’ll lock yourself in.”

“Hey Josh, this drawer is broken so don’t pull it out all the way because the knives will fall out of it and they’ll stab your feet.”

“Yeah the fire alarm just kept beeping all over the place so I just took the batteries out. But it’s not like there’s going to be a fire in the hallway, right?”

But now it’s great because we’re just like Will and Grace! We hang out all the time and have sleepovers and play Scrabble (but I always win) and make craft projects! We’ve also decided that we both want matching kitten tattoos. Oh, and Josh wants to change his last name to Puppy and he calls me B-Kitten for my nickname. So we’re Josh Puppy and B-Kitten! WE’RE DISGUSTINGLY CUTE.

                Josh and I decided to go to Pride in Mankato which was crazy and crazy lame at the same time. First of all, I’ve never seen so many gay people in Mankato before but the actual Pride Festival was more of a sign up for anti-discrimination laws and make a craft project festival? And then that night we decided to go to the dance with Josh’s friend Sid (not McDonald’s Sid) and we may or may not have been wearing our shwastey pants. So we get to the dance and it’s really high school and so after only about an hour, we leave.

                We’re like two miles from our house and we only make it, like, two blocks before Josh turns to me and says, “Wanna climb that billboard?” and I’m like, “Duh.” So we do. And here’s a picture of it.

The billboard is right next to a building and so we climb down on the roof and there’s like a giant pipe or something that I don’t see and I trip and fall. My body didn’t tell my arms to go out in front of me so I literally just slid along the roof face and all. As it turns out the roof was covered in this tar crap and the entire right side of my body was covered in black shit. So it’s whatever.

                We keep walking and two blocks later we see Dominos and we’re like, well we obviously need some, so I walk in looking like a stylish, hotassmess, coal miner and the conversation goes like this-

Me: Hi. I’m Brad.

Domino's Girl: I’m Darcy.

Me: Darcy. What can we have for free?

Domino's Girl: Haha nothing…

Me: Ok but seriously. We would really appreciate a medium, half sausage, half cheese pizza.

Domino's Girl: …Okay.

So we got a free pizza!

                Then, Josh and I were checking every door that we were walking by as we walked through downtown and by this point it’s like one in the morning. Well, we finally find one that’s open and it’s these stairs that lead to a roof and on the roof is a patio with chairs and things! So we’re eating our pizza and the most adorable cat comes over and Josh decides to name it Josh, of course. We’re just in love with it and even though I’m allergic I’m like rubbing the cat all over my face. But then we finished our pizza and went home and went to bed.

                When I woke up, my eyes were swollen like crazy, I was wheezing, and when I looked in the mirror, I was covered in tar and cat hair. But I was really hungry and so I went downstairs and then I noticed that there was blood all over my leg! So I start picking at it to figure out where my wound is but it turns out that it was just pizza sauce.

                Is the lesson to not judge books by their covers? Or is the lesson to not cover your face in something you’re allergic to? Neither. The lesson is if you take the first letter off Josh and the first letter off his last name - Schutz, his name spells Osh Chutz. Which sounds like Auschwitz. Which is funny.  If you don’t think so, then I’m sorry you feel that way. 

Bedazzled Heart

                I have been employed eight different times in the twenty-one years that I have lived and each of them was their own special bedazzle on my heart. My heart is covered in bedazzles actually. There’s one for The Matrix, one for Zachary, Teresa Giudice, Starbucks, Dolce and Gabbana, and many other things that make my life sparkle. My heart is also covered in corduroy, camouflage colored scales that represent everything that I hate. My doctor tells me that if I get too many scales on my heart that I’ll soon get so stressed that I’ll look like an orc version of Marcus Bachman.

                Hy-Vee was the first job that I’ve ever had. Believe it or not, in Great Faces, Great Places, South Dakota you may drive when you are only fourteen years old! Imagine Abigail Breslin just cruisin’ around in that big, old bus with her dead grandpa in the back going to work. Well that’s me. I would push carts and bag groceries. If someone made me mad, I would put cans on top of their tomatoes.  You know those aprons that they always wear? Well I found out that more went on under those aprons in the break room than I would have liked to know.

                Actually, looking back on Hy-Vee, I realize that my fellow employees must have been high every other day. One time I took out the trash with this other kid and instead of taking it to the compacter like a human, he lifted the bag over his head and drank the garbage juice. I probably should have taken a page out of his book. I would break jars of baby food on purpose so that I could break the basic routine and clean them up.

                Bagel Boy was my second job and BAGEL BOY IS THE BEST PLACE EVER! Bagel Boy makes bagel sandwiches and coffee and soup and it’s so delicious. The weird thing was that the managers were never there so I just ate bagels all day and got really fat. I know that people don’t believe me when I say that I was fat but seriously. Look at this picture and tell me otherwise.

                Old Navy was awesome. I worked there with my bff Rachael and she definitely got the short end of the stick on that one. I worked in the fitting room where I would have fashion shows every day with Andrew and Rachael always had to work in “Kids” which they may as well have named “Apocalypse” because that was what it looked and felt like to work in “Kids” every day. There were millions of tiny jeans to be folded and there was always pee or barf on the floor.

                Rachael and I would also make a game out of selling ONC’s. That stands for “Old Navy Card” yeah! Every time we were at the register we would think of the most creative way to sell an ONC.

Rachael: Ok, and your purchase comes to $11.56. Would you like to save a treasure chest of money by signing up for an Old Navy Card today?

Customer: (Fills out nearly the entire signup sheet) Wait. Is this a credit card?

Rachael: (speaking as slow as possible thinking she may confuse the customer) Uuuummmm…. (breath) …. Yesss…. It is…. (then takes off at light speed) butit’sareallygooddealandyou’llloveitandyoucansaveatreasurechestandit’sreallyawesomeandyoulookreallygoodtoday!

Customer: Oh ok. Uh. No thank you, then.

                After that I worked at Starbucks. Starbucks to me is like a grocery store to a child with Prader-Willi Syndrome. It is by far one of my favorite places to be and in the top two of my favorite places to work. The best part was the customers. I don’t think it’s difficult to order a drink correctly. In fact, when the AP Style guide has to specifically state, “Espresso. Never expresso”  then there is clearly a problem with the world.

Can I please get a frappa mocha?

Where are the moo-lattes?

This tastes too much like coffee…

I’ll have a large macha-tee-toh.

A medium, please.

                Rachael posted this funny cartoon on my wall that summed up my life.

                And one time this lady ran into the side of Starbucks with her car. She was driving this brand new Escalade, had big boobs, big blonde hair, long nails, the works. I hand her the drink. She thinks she’s going to drive away but instead she decides to scrape her Escalade along the side of the building. Instead of, of you know, checking in with us to make sure there wasn’t any damage, she decided it would be best to just drive away.

                Then, I worked at Barnes and Noble which was fine.

                THEN, I WORKED AT DISNEY WORLD!

                Then, I did the roofing job which I still haven’t gotten a check for…

                Finally, I worked at McDonalds. It was sort of like working in the future because everything was automated and machines would like fill up the French fry baskets for us. But it was only like the future if the future is like working in “Kids” in Sierra Leone. I just really needed a job so I applied and I got it and whatever. On my first day, my manager yelled at the girl with Down Syndrome because she interrupted her. Every day I was burned by the oils from the fryers. One day this stud who we’ll call Sid had a conversation with me that went like this…

Sid: So what kinda girls are you into?

Me: None. None of them. … I’m gay.

Sid: What? (looking really concerned) Since when?

Me: Ever…

                Anyway, nothing was sanitary. We were supposed to wash our hands every thirty minutes but I saw people go the entire shift without washing their hands. The trays that the hamburgers sit in don’t get washed all day. One day I dropped an entire bag of fries in the fryer including the plastic bag which dissolved in less than a second. So after working there for less than two weeks, I quit. It was just terrible. I went up my managers and I said, “I’m quitting. I don’t like it here. So I’m going to leave.” And I walked out. … So it’s whatever.

                Is there a lesson in today’s lesson? Why yes. Yes there is. I’ve added another bedazzle to my heart. It’s called unemployment.