Jedayla

A guy just walked into my newsroom carrying a small cardboard box, taped and labeled on one side.

I walked past him and heard him say, "got a live bat in here!"

(Stop dead. Double take.) "A what?"

"A live bat! A rabid one too! Here I'll shake the box a little bit...see if he will scratch around!"

"Why?" was the question on my lips, but I couldn't get it out in time, paralyzed by a sudden irrational fear of rabid flying rodents.

Turns out this perfectly amiable young fellow was waiting for his boss, a region-renowned animal catcher, to finish up an interview in the studio. They had stopped in after what he termed, a "routine" rabid-bat-quarantine.

Being the foolishly inquisitive and procrastination-prone gal that I am, I asked him for more details--but mainly because I wanted to be sure that he wouldn't let a rabid bat loose my place of employment.

"Very dangerous," he said, as he waved the box in my face. "Wouldn't want this thing loose in here."

(I shuddered as I heard a tiny little scratch scratch scratch.)

As it didn't appear that his colleague was finishing with his interview anytime soon, I tried to change the subject. My benign intentions soon lurched me into a conversation comparing which of us has tried the most different types exotic meats.

My most exotic venture, to be honest, was a fingernail-sized piece of sweet breads (read, calf brains or the like). Turns out this dude is into taking home his road kill--deer, beaver, possum.

"I was surprised how good beaver tasted. I didn't think it was going to be that good."

(I choked on one of the m&m's I popped into my mouth.)

When I asked about buffalo, he said, "c'mon, everyone eats that stuff."

I've never tasted buffalo meat. I'm sure it's fantastic.

I found refuge in going through my sound bites--never thought I would ever say that--as an excuse to politely exit the conversation.

At which point he sat down behind me with his rabid bat and watched me proceed with my "work."

After about 10 to 20 minutes, he got up and left.

I sincerely hope he does not get bitten by the rabid animals he is paid to catch.

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2006-02-01 4:22 PM Rabid bats in the newsroom! Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (2) Share on Facebook	A guy just walked into my newsroom carrying a small cardboard box, taped and labeled on one side. I walked past him and heard him say, "got a live bat in here!" (Stop dead. Double take.) "A what?" "A live bat! A rabid one too! Here I'll shake the box a little bit...see if he will scratch around!" "Why?" was the question on my lips, but I couldn't get it out in time, paralyzed by a sudden irrational fear of rabid flying rodents. Turns out this perfectly amiable young fellow was waiting for his boss, a region-renowned animal catcher, to finish up an interview in the studio. They had stopped in after what he termed, a "routine" rabid-bat-quarantine. Being the foolishly inquisitive and procrastination-prone gal that I am, I asked him for more details--but mainly because I wanted to be sure that he wouldn't let a rabid bat loose my place of employment. "Very dangerous," he said, as he waved the box in my face. "Wouldn't want this thing loose in here." (I shuddered as I heard a tiny little scratch scratch scratch.) As it didn't appear that his colleague was finishing with his interview anytime soon, I tried to change the subject. My benign intentions soon lurched me into a conversation comparing which of us has tried the most different types exotic meats. My most exotic venture, to be honest, was a fingernail-sized piece of sweet breads (read, calf brains or the like). Turns out this dude is into taking home his road kill--deer, beaver, possum. "I was surprised how good beaver tasted. I didn't think it was going to be that good." (I choked on one of the m&m's I popped into my mouth.) When I asked about buffalo, he said, "c'mon, everyone eats that stuff." I've never tasted buffalo meat. I'm sure it's fantastic. I found refuge in going through my sound bites--never thought I would ever say that--as an excuse to politely exit the conversation. At which point he sat down behind me with his rabid bat and watched me proceed with my "work." After about 10 to 20 minutes, he got up and left. I sincerely hope he does not get bitten by the rabid animals he is paid to catch. Read/Post Comments (2) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top
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