Thursday, May 26, 2011

What the Hell Was That?!

I have not made any secret of the fact that I'm a wuss, a "scardy cat", a woman frightened of all things that go "boo" in the night.  If you need reminders of this, please refer to my blog, "Who's That Rapping At My Chamber Door". 

I am not proud of this.  Yes, I live in the great Rocky Mountains of Colorado.  Will I be able to go camping with my boys without downing a few Valium on an hourly basis?  I can't be certain.  The idea of being anywhere near wild animals that are not safely contained, for instance at the Denver Zoo, is rather disconcerting. 

The evening my ex-husband announced rather bluntly over the phone that he wanted a divorce (we were temporarily separated at the time), my friend and now current husband, Eric took me for a long walk at dusk in the foothills of Southern California to wrap my mind and heart around what had just happened.  I couldn't move.  My feet were immobile.  Every time I heard a twig snap, I screamed.  Poor guy.  He was trying so desperately to help ease the trauma of my afternoon but instead he added to it tenfold.  By the time I got back to his car I was inconsolable. 

My mother loved leaving sticky notes on her back door when I came home late from my restaurant shifts.  (Oh, those damn lists!  I believe I wrote about this once too.)  Anyway, she had asked that I take out the trash before I locked up for the night.  No problem.  Out to the back porch I went, tired, blurry eyed, and thinking about nothing but taking off my nasty work shoes and crawling into bed.  Lesson One: ALWAYS be aware when approaching trash cans especially when foolish younger brothers leave them open during the day.  Lesson Two:  Mama Opossums are nasty bitches especially when they have their babies with them.  I should also mention at this point how friggin' ugly they are when you're practically nose to snout with them.  Bad teeth, unpleasant breath, rat-like tails.  I hate rats.  Screaming hysteria ensued.  That stupid thing and her parcel of minions could eat all the left over chicken bones they wanted.  I didn't give a shit.   In fact, I was hoping they'd go someplace and choke on them.

Last night, I was leaving from a very nice guitar practice (yes, it's going very well, thank you) and while approaching my car, I saw a huge black critter waddling about and going down the sewer drain next to my driver side door.  LOVELY!  What the Hell was that?!  This was not how my evening was supposed to end.  I had a good afternoon.  I finished all my laundry.  The kids didn't rile me too much on their first day of summer vacation.  Eric BBQ'd.  I completed all the heinous paperwork (at least what I could find of it) collecting on my desk.  And here I stood in stock terror, holding my 40 year old guitar case, and wondering what in God's name that thing was and more importantly...was the bastard gone?  So of course I did what every terrified middle-aged woman would do in this situation; I hopped up and down, hooted like an owl, ran to the passenger side of my car, threw in the guitar, and climbed up and over into the driver's seat. Then, for clarification purposes, I drove my car towards the gutter and flashed my high beams trying to catch a glimpse of the critter.  If Animal Control needed to be called, I would be the hero of Broomfield County.  I would save the community from the beastie but alas, it was gone. 

Next Wednesday I'll keep my eyes open and I certainly won't park next to the gutter anymore.  I'll also have to explain to the gentleman at the front desk what I was doing.  He was watching the entire adventure.


Brenda said...

OMG, Bri!! Maybe it was a baby bigfoot! Or the chupacabra! (giggle) I would've crapped myself, however, I do want to see you hop up and down hooting like an owl.

Bri Potts said...

What is a chupacapra?! That sounds about as awful as me jumping up and down (and yes, that was an ugly thing to see!) LOL