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| Blogs > wickedeasy > wicked and that ain't so easy |
You are SO out of here
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You are SO out of here I once rented an apartment from a woman who was a seamstress. She set up her sewing room in the front parlor of this old saltbox that sat directly on the sidewalk of Brattle Street heading out of Harvard Square. In the summer months, you could hear the needle passing through the cloth, her soft humming as you passed the window. The front door led to stairs that passed by the door to the sewing room. It was expected that one would stop to speak, to pass time, to acknowledge our shared space. Her name was Petra Bier. Her adult also lived there as did their german shepherd, both preternaturally quiet, given to suddenly appearing from the shadows. My apartment consisted of a skint of a kitchen, one large room, a bedroom fashioned out of what had clearly been a front porch, with a corner lopped off for a bathroom. The bedroom pitched forward to such a degree that the bureau had to be shimmed to keep it from flying out the front window. The bed was wedged in tight so it had nowhere to go. Closets? Nope. The roomroom, was jammed full with a couch, table, two comfy chairs and a shit ton of books. Oh, and mice. I didn’t much mind the little beggars. I would lie there reading, sipping wine, eating cheese and apples and watch as they stole pieces, scurrying away tails twitching. I had some humane traps and would catch and release them out to the back garden. I was “entertaining” one evening. We had just finished the first of what I hoped would be many courses, I was laying across his chest limp as a dishrag only to feel myself suddenly flying across the room and landing unceremoniously on the floor near the shower. Not a huge distance but not a bad throw from a supine position. The poet come taxi driver was dancing on the bed, manhood flapping. While this was normally a show I might have enjoyed, my coccyx was complaining about the hard landing and he was squealing like a little girl. A mouse? Had touched his skin. Little tiny feet. I think it was that ….the little tiny feet that did me in. So rather than being empathetic to his skeezed outness, I got the giggles. He left, furious with me.  I got some nastier poison traps since it seemed like the catch and release wasn’t cutting down on the numbers much. Supposedly they’d eat and then wander off to die. Fast forward two weeks or so. Same poet, same scenario. About the same time in the process and he screeches in my ear, look, look. Pointing at the floor, I watch as a tiny mouse enters stage left. And then takes 15 minutes to do the most excruciating death scene one can imagine. Reeling, wrenching, on its back convulsing, staggering, spasming, my god, it was Oscar worthy. We sat, unmoving, eyes pinned to this poor little thing until at last with a twirl……uh huh, a twirl, it gave up the goddamn ghost. BRAVA! He shoved me with his foot. Flush it he said. Wait, what? He wants me to pick it up and flush it?? Fucking hell. Now here’s the thing. Normally, I would have picked it up and flushed it, no problem, but I am so over this dude right now, no way am I flushing the mouse. So, I curl up in a ball and sob, I can’t, I can’t, I killed it, oh god, oh god. You made me kill it. And then I slapped him when he tried to comfort me. How could you, I moaned. This is all your fault. Did you see that poor thing suffer? Ever watch a man dress himself without touching foot to floor? It’s fun. Anyway, he left, skirting the mouse by the largest margin possible which would have been about 7” give or take. I lit a cigarette, grabbed a tissue, flushed the little guy then ate the leftover pizza. Oh and I tossed the poison traps, ick. You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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we've had a lot of rain and the mice are coming inside. normally I only get them at the beginning of winter. anyhow.....I set a few traps this morning.........and this popped into my head. I wonder what that dude is doing? he had really good hair. You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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too cold for them here in canada i guess
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Oh Wicked this is so wickedly funny, I am not able to stop laughing. The movie rights are in my notepad as we speak. Who can we get to play the male lead- easy_going( i don't know baout h is hair?) maybe or how about furbal or citizen??? You my dear, get to play yourself and donate all the mousies you have trapped. Shit I feel another hotel story coming along that I remember (Virtual Symposium Group) use Virtual Symposium Group
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Yea, like you know there are these really mysterious animals that have a magical power to make mice leave called cats?
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That is a funny story wicked. Wonder what the dude is doing? Still inside, doing guilt therapy by the sound of it. Scared for life. From your tears. And the mouse!
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 I admire your sangfroid, because I have to admit the little critters skeeve me out - I probably would have reacted same as your friend if one walked across my foot .    
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You must have been inspired to act your way as the despondent murderess by the dramatisse mouse. We frequently had mice in our camps in Baja. I screamed many a time for accidentally scaring one while cooking, as it tried to escape the underneath of my camp stove and realized it was jumping onto my face or chest. One time, I had one lightly run across my face in Panama in our camper. That not only disrupted my sleep but gave me the heebie jeebies for a good while that night. hahahhahahhahah kk The observant make the best lovers, I may not do right, but I do write, I have bliss, joy, and happiness in my life, Kitkat Come check out my blog KItkat1415 check out this post by me Adventures In Body Grooming #39 April Topic Link: What Lies Beneath If April Showers Oh Bloody Hell What Kind Of Weather Turns Me On Bloggers Symposium 40
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Good story. Many years ago there was a mouse running around in the house one day that got scared off into a bedroom by the people traffic. My Mom and Sister were having a fit so I took a mason jar and put it up against the wall with the open end in the direction he would be running to escape. Then I herded him out and he ran inside the jar and banged into the end in his panic to escape. While he was trying to figure out what was stopping him I grabbed the jar and picked it up with him inside and trying to escape. That was the last time I did a live release of a captured mouse. I did use a live trap at my house here when I first moved in but as I kind of have a bit of ADD and don't remember things like that to well the mice that had the misfortune of wandering into the trap ended up dying before I remembered to check the trap.  So I figured it was more humane to use the traps that kill the intruders, besides I've seen the damage they do to electrical wiring in the walls of houses. I was working at one house where there was about three feet of electrical wire that had been stripped clean of insulation when the wall was opened up.  Vive La Difference
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Reminds me of one winter we would be woken up by the sound of mice skittering around above the ceiling panels in our bedroom. We caught and released over twenty before we figured where they were coming in and fixed it. I know the number cause the wife started naming them and writing the names on a sheet of paper. If you see me in the real world, come say "Hi Justskin." I always behave. Preferably not well. 
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What a great story! Yeah, those *front porch* rooms always have that lean towards the front for rain runoff. . Great idea for a porch, but not a room. What a wienie that guy was. . He must have been OK in *some way* or you wouldn't have invited him back.  I used to live trap them and let them go in other neighborhoods where people I didn't like live... 
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I absolutely love your blog! I was comforted by the start of your post, I thought I can follow this. But ... there's always a but ... did the mouse survive this encounter? You do terrible trhings to my head!  
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Unmanned by a mouse. The ignominy of it! We used to get mice. Our cat Franz was a good mouser, but he got fat and lazy and wouldn't hunt anymore. I think he took to inviting the mice in for cheese and pinochle. Then we inherited Marco, the tiny rat terrier. Exit mice, stage left. Exit Franz, too. He now hides in the loft, out of Marco's reach. Become a member now and get a free tote bag.
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Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety. Other women cloy The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies. For vilest things Become themselves in her, that the holy priests Bless her when she is riggish. ~~ from Antony & Cleopatra
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"wickedeasy replies on 4/8/2017 8:10 pm: didn't it stink?" The trap was down in the basement in an area that I didn't go through that often and the trap itself was an enclosed plastic case with two ports that had pop up panels that kept the trapped critters from escaping so there wasn't much air circulation but it did stink enough to get my attention one day.  amp;Vive La Difference
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