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One nice improvement that the new apartment affords is the garbage situation: while there is still a bit of a walk to the dumpster, it's no longer the Sherpa-like trudge clear to the other side of the county, like the one we endured until a month ago. That being said, the old trash slog, while tedious and grueling, at least spared us from such unpleasantries as blind shrieking terror.
This evening, I decided to haul out some garbage on my way out to the car for a grocery run. The building's dumpster is at the tail end of the parking lot, so I lugged the sack past my car to the tree located immediately next to the dumpster. As I turned my head, I saw a flash of something dark in motion, not enough to ascertain whether I was imagining things. Before I could really process this, though, I was already slipping into bag-slinging stance, and a second later the bag landed on a stack of cardboard boxes in the back of the bin with a flaccid *thud*
Which apparently opened a flaming, suppurating hellmouth, because out flew a gray toaster-sized demon-spawn directly at the tree trunk five feet from my head, where it attached itself to the bark like a slime alien to John Hurt's face.
"AIEEE!" I squealed, sounding entirely too much like an E.T.-era Drew Barrymore as I regarded the rather annoyed squirrel who regarded me with naked hostility. He had already begun skittering his way upward when I turned toward the car, trying to determine whether Bailey's or Kahlua would be better therapy. By the time I had my keys in the door lock, however, I heard a noise overhead: Li'l Sparky Hepzibah had made his way to the very end of the branch nearest to me, where he proceeded to spend several minutes loudly bitching me out.
"NYAK!" he chittered at me, spittle flying from his buck teeth. "NYAK NH-YACKNYAK!"
"I'm sorry!" I hollered skyward, not looking around to see if a crowd had gathered.
He was unmollified. "NYAK NYIKKIK NYAHHHK!" If he had a cane, he'd have been shaking it at me.
"Look, if I'd known...."
"NYAK!"
I hated to cut the conversation short, but by this point I was sure that if I could see his toes, I'd observe him flipping me off. I got in the car and drove off. No sense in encouraging the rude.
This evening, I decided to haul out some garbage on my way out to the car for a grocery run. The building's dumpster is at the tail end of the parking lot, so I lugged the sack past my car to the tree located immediately next to the dumpster. As I turned my head, I saw a flash of something dark in motion, not enough to ascertain whether I was imagining things. Before I could really process this, though, I was already slipping into bag-slinging stance, and a second later the bag landed on a stack of cardboard boxes in the back of the bin with a flaccid *thud*
Which apparently opened a flaming, suppurating hellmouth, because out flew a gray toaster-sized demon-spawn directly at the tree trunk five feet from my head, where it attached itself to the bark like a slime alien to John Hurt's face.
"AIEEE!" I squealed, sounding entirely too much like an E.T.-era Drew Barrymore as I regarded the rather annoyed squirrel who regarded me with naked hostility. He had already begun skittering his way upward when I turned toward the car, trying to determine whether Bailey's or Kahlua would be better therapy. By the time I had my keys in the door lock, however, I heard a noise overhead: Li'l Sparky Hepzibah had made his way to the very end of the branch nearest to me, where he proceeded to spend several minutes loudly bitching me out.
"NYAK!" he chittered at me, spittle flying from his buck teeth. "NYAK NH-YACKNYAK!"
"I'm sorry!" I hollered skyward, not looking around to see if a crowd had gathered.
He was unmollified. "NYAK NYIKKIK NYAHHHK!" If he had a cane, he'd have been shaking it at me.
"Look, if I'd known...."
"NYAK!"
I hated to cut the conversation short, but by this point I was sure that if I could see his toes, I'd observe him flipping me off. I got in the car and drove off. No sense in encouraging the rude.
