pen_grunt: (Shirley Temple--whoa)
Bats in the Bedroom.

The longer Derrick and I co-habitate, the more things we find out that we don't know about each other. For instance, feelings on bats.

Last night I had just drifted off to sleep with the light on. (I was doing what I like to call "testing sleep"--where I really don't WANT to go to bed yet, but I'm tired. I close my eyes for a few moments and if I can't go to sleep right away, I return to reading. I never end up reading.)

Derrick had also just shut his eyes when up from our bedroom ceiling there arose such a clatter...(The best we can figure--retrospectively--was that the poor little bat had actually run into our [slow speed, ultra-quiet] fan.)

Derrick wakes me up by putting his face really close to mine and saying, "Missy, honey, don't lift up your head."

You see, bats are one of those things that we haven't covered in our relationship yet. I mean, really, how often do you have a bat-circling-your-bed situation on your hands? He was betting that I would scream (though I'm not quite sure why--I have an extremely high tolerance for all things reptilian, creepy, crawly and otherwise).

So the first thing I do is look up. There it is. A bat is making quick circles around our bedroom ceiling. If anyone has ever gotten too close to a swallow's nest and has consequently been dive-bombed...that's kind of what it felt like.

I turn back to Derrick who says, "I really hate bats."

I say, "I don't hate bats, but I do hate things flying at my head--so I'm going to be a girl on this one."

I duck under the covers as the bat makes progressively lower circles by my head. I then peek out and watch Derrick lead the bat out of our bedroom (only to have him come flying back in before he can shut the door--causing another ducking under the covers from me). He manages to guide the bat downstairs and onto the porch where said bat decides to cling to the wall instead of flying outside. He didn't want to hurt the bat, but did end up thwacking it a titch too hard with the broom to try to "urge" it outside.

Poor little bat. Now we know that: a) We both like bats--just outside, b) Missy will not scream and/or freak out when woken to bat warnings, c) Our biggest concern about bats in the house is their guano, and d) Derrick is perfectly willing to "be the boy" in situations such as this (and, well, cleaning dead fish out of the fish tank).

Batty.
pen_grunt: (Nigga Please)
We actually had a semi-eventful day at work today. By semi-eventful I mean "shit got stolen" and the cops were called.

We're on the 13th floor of a mostly-empty (being renovated for offices) building in Minneapolis. We don't typically lock the doors to the office during the day because someone is usually there, and we've never really had the need.

Today our receptionist came back from lunch to find a 60-ish man milling around the reception desk. He made up some story about looking for a particular office, or trying to find directions, or whatever other bull he decided to pass off as small talk. After small talk, he decides to leave. It's then that our receptionist noticed that her wallet (which was around her desk area) was missing. She decides to follow the guy--who was the only person who could have taken her wallet.

It turns out the guy dumped the wallet on the 10th floor after finding out there was no loose cash. ANYWAY, our receptionist calls security and they detain the guy, who looks at our receptionist and says, "This is because I'm black, isn't it? You're accusing me because I'm black?"

Our (black) receptionist looks at him and says, "No, I'm accusing you because you TOOK my freaking wallet, that's why I'm accusing you of taking it."

This also manages to royally piss everyone off--it'd be like me saying: "You're being snotty." and the intended saying, "You're just saying that because I'm a girl." NO, I'm saying it because you're being snotty you stupid b*tch :) Playing the "I'm a persecuted racial group" card does NOT work when you've actually committed the crime.

To which the guy responds, "I'm getting too old for this shit."

Yes, yes you are. Apparently if you can't pull off a smooth wallet swipe anymore, you ARE losing your touch.

We're now locking our office doors even during business hours. Sad.

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