When I lived at my first ever grown up, on my own, no roommate apartment (which, after years of moving around, is only three doors down from the Penthouse) I had an encounter with a bat. I had come home after a late night at Henry's with my friend John Hartman (who, coincidentally, lives across the street from where he lived at this time, which is basically across the street from me...I guess we really like our streets). He continued home and I went upstairs to my apartment, walked in, poured a glass of water, and walked into the living room. There was an odd black smudge on the white woodwork, so I went in for a closer OMG IT'S A BAT!!!!
I grabbed the phone (you know, the kind with a cord to the wall and a twisty cord to the handset) and called John Hartman to say "There is a bat in the living room! I walked in and there is a bat here!"
"GET OUT OF THERE!" he replied.
Huh? I mean, it's just a bat.
"Did someone break in?"
Huh? No. A bat. The kind that flies around.
"Oh. I thought you meant a baseball bat. (?) Is there anything I can do to help that doesn't involve getting out of bed?"
No. I guess not. Jerk. (Just kidding. I really didn't call him a jerk). So for about twenty minutes I teetered, one foot on the coffee table, the other on the radiator, praying that when I grabbed the bat with the sheet (the fitted sheet...I'm an idiot) it wouldn't start screaming that bat scream. I survived. I sort of don't think the bat did since it was Winter, and when I was planting some flowers out front the following Spring I found a bat carcass under a bush. Oh well. It shouldn't have been breaking an entering.
Lucky I didn't have a baseball bat.
|I thought these paper silhouettes were kind of cute.|
|This is exactly what the bat hanging from the woodwork looked like. Sort of.|
|I found these from Martha Stewart Crafts. Sort of like these...but I bought them at Meijer.|