Thursday, September 2, 2010

Rat Nest

Last night we had an informal reunion of the ‘Beer O’Clock’ crew. Two of the original six were back in the city (working right down the street, no less) so plans were made to meet up a JJ Foley’s for a few swigs.

We met, hung out, reminisced, laughed a lot, got caught up in each other’s lives (catching up on mine took approximately 33 seconds) and had a few beers. Fine! Five beers for me in total. Around 7:30 we said our goodbyes and headed home in separate directions.

And, here, my friends, is where today’s story begins.

Waiting for the train to arrive I realized I had to pee really bad. Really really bad! It wasn’t a sudden urge either. When I left the pub it was an undercurrent that I figured could wait until I got home.

Still, I’ve held off longer for more urgent needs. I can make it! Right?

Thankfully, the train arrives quickly, ushers me along four or five stops and dumps me where I parked the car. As I’m walking towards the attached garage, which is about three quarters of a mile from the station, my phone goes off.

Text from Wifey reads ‘Can you pick me up a bottle of sav blanc?’

Well, fuck. I may have been able to make it home before pissing all over myself, but a stop at the liquor store is out of the question. I need to do something. Fortunately, I’m experienced at this sort of thing (please refer to drinking problem mentioned in nearly every entry since 2007).

I turn around, head back to the main parking lot and walk with purpose (and urgency) towards a lone, wooded, semi secluded area. I’ve used this site many times before so I know where the lesser over grown areas are.

I find a decent spot, unzip and begin my mission.

Now, before we go further, I should point out that this particular train stop is right along the Malden River. For those unfamiliar, this river is most well known for catching fire and burning for days because it was so polluted. It’s better now, but still smells like raw sewage on bad days.

Of course, now that it’s cleaner, wildlife has returned.

As I’m relieving myself, something white, furry and fast sprints away from me down the hill. While I’m fairly certain it was a rabbit, I have no intention of following it down any hole. Instead I keep doing what I’m doing.

Until a movement in a tree branch catches my eye. Since the land slopes down towards the river, the tree branch is at my eye level and approximately five feet in front of me. I initially think is a white snake, curled around the tree branch and moving very slowly. I duck my head a bit to get a better look and see this:


I know, right! I should mention that I am still peeing with no end in sight. While it feels FANTASTIC, I realize my new possum friend is probably very angry I’m urinating all over his turf.

Sidenote: I got the above picture by Googling ‘angry possum’ and while that’s a generic image I found, it’s almost exactly like the view I had. It had it’s back to me and was looking behind itself at me with that exact same expression.

Sidenote #2: For some reason an image of Bigfoot comes up when you Google ‘angry possum’. Has that mystery been solved?

Anyway, feeling brave, I look him in the eye and say (yes, out loud), ‘What the fuck are you looking at?’ This earns me a hiss from the ratty looking freak. But I’m not afraid. Nine out of ten times I can kick a possum’s ass, I tell myself. And tonight is not the tenth time.

I stare down the possum while I finally – seriously, I pissed for nearly three minutes straight – finish up. He (or she - I really can’t be sure) watches me the entire time, most likely checking out my junk before I zip up. I back away, turn, then stop quick and stare back at it. It’s still watching me and gives me one more hiss before I walk away.

Well, it was either a hiss or it was laughing at my penis.

I’ll never be sure.


Today’s distraction: Play the possum death game. Shoot them before they kill your camping friends. While this is bloody, for some reason I found it very funny. Turn your volume down if at work.

3 comments:

A Tribute: deer a train and basketball said...

Possums freak the hell out of me.

Rob said...

Ha! With those gnarly teeth, I'm sure you had some second thoughts about keeping your junk exposed.

I had a wildlife encounter this morning that I just posted about.

I know very well that feeling of having imbibed before a train ride and once you're released from the coach and walking to the car, there is nothing that can keep that urge in check. I've pissed into a snow bank from the main street that people walk down from the station to the parking lot. Not a proud moment.

Rob said...

Also, your "argument" with the possum reminded me of that Youtube video of the guy arguing with the spitting goat. If you've not seen it, spend 90 seconds enjoying it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dp0Bt2cbcc8