We all know New York City isn't the cleanest city. The city of lights? Sure! Home of Broadway? Oh yea! Mice and roach free? HARDLY THE CASE.
It started like any normal night. With my door closed, I sat on my petite twin bed, catching up on emails....ahem....facebooking.....when I saw a flash of movement towards my door. I look down. Skirting around the corner of my sisal rug, I see a mouse. A large gray mouse. In my room. In my TINY room. You can imagine my verbal response.
Before I could drop another 4 letter word, I was out of my room like a bat out of hell. Thankfully there was a roommate home. She advised me to call Joe, the Super. It's 10:20. Too late?
Never too late when there's a mouse in your room.
I call. Leave a message. Pace outside my closed bedroom door with my Uggs on and a broom in my hand. No word from Joe.
I call my parents. "There's a mouse in my room", I say in a sad resolved tone. "Oh no! Well we're in the drive through at Taco Bell, can we call you back?"
Still pacing outside my room. I decide I must face the mouse. As roommate LindsayAnn just pointed out, I am MUCH bigger than it. I should find comfort in this. She offers to be my wingman.
Gun's a blazing we stomp our way into the room, banging the broom on everything. Maybe it will scurry out of my room and into some other area of the apartment. One might say, "But then it's lost in your apartment!" My response, "Yes. That means its no longer IN MY TINY ROOM!"
We find nothing. Not even a twitch of my bedskirt.
Ah. Nothing left to do at this point. Guess I'll wait to talk to Joe the super tomorrow morning. As for now, I'm sitting still and quietly on my bed. Uggs still on. Daring that rodent to flee from my room...
****I just published this post when THE MOUSE RAN OUT OF MY ROOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's safely into the kitchen. Mice in the kitchen are equally, if not more, disgusting, but I can rest easily now. PTL.