I'm beyond tired today!
Last night was a blast at the Jim Himes victory celebration, and I got home a little after 11PM. I stayed up for a while and read a bunch of blogs and primary returns for various races around the state, and then I went to bed while Colbert was on.
Joyce was sound asleep, and I joined her and slept hard for a few hours.
Around 3AM, I heard a "thump" against the window. It was loud enough to shake me out of a solid sleep. I groggily listened to a rustling sound in the drapes and a thud as something fell to the floor.
I snapped fully awake and groped for the light switch. I figured a squirrel or something like that got in the house. When I hit the light, I peered over the edge of the bed and right there on the carpet was an enormous bat flailing around!
I sprung out of bed and yelled "Joyce, there's a goddamned bat in here!" She screamed and pulled the sheet up over her head. The bat, obviously freaked out by all the sudden commotion, took flight around the bedroom.
I yelled for Joyce to stay under the sheets and then immediately ran from the room, slamming the door behind me. While this might not appear to be the most chivalrous thing I've ever done, my initial thought was that I didn't want that thing flying all over our house.
Joyce was screaming with alarming regularity while I simultaneously offered words of encouragement through the closed door and dressed myself in jeans, a hoodie, a pillow case around my head, and a baseball cap holding it in place. I found a pair of gloves and put them on, too. I'm deathly afraid of rabies, and I know bats that feed on road kill occasionally carry the disease.
Joyce had progressed from constant screaming to intermittently complaining between screams about how hot it was under the sheets and when the hell was I going to do something about this animal? I returned to the room, slamming the door behind me. The bat was doing laps around the room, and I ducked frequently to avoid contact.
When the animal took a break and stuck itself to the curtain rod, I hollered for Joyce to get out of the room. She flung herself through the door and I closed it behind her.
Now it was just me and the bat. Mano a bato. This was the moment of truth!
I went over to the window, opened it wide, and removed the screen. Then I waved my arms around and got the bat flying again. It circled the room while I ducked and, according to Joyce, screamed like a frightened schoolgirl. I don't fully believe her version of the events, and choose to believe that I stoically kept my composure in the face of possible danger, and did what was needed to resolve the situation.
Suddenly it was quiet. The bat was gone. I hadn't seen it fly out the window, but Joyce and I went around the room, looking behind the furniture and on top of the drapes. It was gone.
By this time it was nearly 4AM, and we were both way too freaked out to sleep. Joyce turned on the TV while I grappled with a convenient bottle of the ol' single malt, and I poured myself a tot of scotch, neat. The booze along with my returning grogginess helped me get back to sleep, and we both crashed for another few hours.
It was quite the fun evening!
So, what does this little story have to do with anything?
Not much, except the little bugger apparently was lying low rather than enjoying certain freedom, because about an hour ago I heard Joyce screaming from the dining room. Sure enough, the little bastard was back doing laps, this time between the living room and kitchen.
So I did what any experienced bat-wrangler would do, and I put on a robe and a hat, grabbed the Swifter and my video camera, and prepared for the battle that would settle this once and for all.
Below are some clips of our courageous and epic struggle to evict the beast. Watch and enjoy. And after seeing the video, I'm realize that Joyce may be accurate in regard to my screaming abilities.