Archived Blog Aug 30 2005

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

I Must Be the Dumbest Person in New York –or—I Love My New Bubonic Plague!

The following statements in red were written before I knew the extent of the destruction in Katrina's wake. Please forgive me if you are offended:

First, let me start off by saying that I wish all the best to any of the people who were harmed or inconvenienced because of Hurricane Katrina (not to be confused with Katarina, my ex-girlfriend, who did not produce nearly as much rainfall). I hope that New Orleans and surrounding regions will pull out of this with minimal loss of life and property. That being said, here’s a quote I read in the New York Times from some asshole:

“‘This is our tsunami,’ Mayor A. J. Holloway of Biloxi, Miss., told The Biloxi Sun Herald.” -www.nytimes.com

Oh really, Mayor? This is your tsunami? I can see that. I stubbed my toe the other day, and it was my holocaust. And then, a few days ago, I got a paper-cut. It was totally my extinction of the dinosaurs! No, mayor, this is not your tsunami. Ok? Do you want to know what your tsunami is? The fucking ACTUAL tsunami! Don’t compare one of the worst natural disasters in history that will take decades to recover from with this hurricane. I know the hurricane is bad, but the tsunami killed hundreds of thousands. By making this off-the-cuff comparison, you are dishonoring those who died in the tsunami, you fat ugly bastard (for the record, I have no idea what you look like). Mayor A. J. Holloway (the A. J. stands for “a jackass”), the tsunami wasn’t just for the people of India et al.; it was the world’s disaster. I know you’re upset about the hurricane, but don’t go around saying dumb stuff like that, ok? Ok. I’m sorry for yelling. I know. No, no. It’s not like that. Yes, I like you. I don’t know why she did that. Don’t worry, you’ll find another one. There are plenty of fish in the sea… Of course I think you’re attractive! Not in a gay way, but… Fat ugly bastard? Oh yeah. I was just kidding, I said I didn’t know what you looked like in the parenthetical statement following it. Just relax. Ok. Cool. Well, listen, I gotta go… Ok. Ok. I’ll call you. Bye Mr. Holloway!

Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for:

The Story of the Rat.

So, on Friday night, I saw my friend do a sketch show with my other friend Joe Powers. I was not toxicated at all (meaning I was intoxicated), so, after getting a number of a rather cute girl, Joe and I left the show to go back to our respective homes. Are you following me so far people? I’ll stop telling this story right now if I think… ok… that’s better. Anyway, we were walking along the sidewalk when I heard a high-pitched squeal. I looked behind me, but I couldn’t see anything. The squeal continued, so I looked down at the trash can behind me to find a rat in it. Now, this was one of those woven metal trash cans, and the rat had gotten himself stuck in one of the interstices, so its torso, front paws and head were hanging out the can, and its pelvis and back legs were still inside it. Apparently its pelvis was not big enough to fit through the hole. It was screaming bloody murder. I had to try to rescue it.

Ok, now I know what you’re going to say: You wanted to rescue a rat? What the hell is wrong with you? Here’s what’s wrong with me. I am a compassionate human being who cares for his fellow mammals be they human, rat, or sometimes platypus. I wasn’t about to leave this poor rat to die without at least trying to help it. Besides, rats are cute. Just take a look at this picture!

Below: This is painfully cute.

So I began the rescue operation. I put my hand inside the trash can and tried to nudge the rat out of the hole. I was attempting to push his pelvis through or find some way to get it through (the thought that I should have pulled it did not occur to me until much later on when it was too late.) The pushing didn’t work, unless my intended plan was to piss the rat off. The whole time I pushed, it was trying to bite me, but wasn’t able to because of the wire metal walls of the trash can (imagine having your legs stuck in a manhole and trying to scratch your feet). Then, when this didn’t work, I talked to the rat a little bit, asking it how it even got stuck in the first place. The rat didn’t answer. Up until now, my actions have not been stupid. That was soon to change.


Below: The rat was caught in one of those diamond shaped holes toward the bottom of the receptacle. This may or not have been the actual trash can in question.

I noticed that the rat’s front was flopping around, trying to pull himself out of this hole. I thought that, if he had more leverage out of the hole, he would be able to pull his back legs out. The way to achieve this would be to put my finger under his stomach to give him that support. So, in my infinite stupidity, I decided to execute this action. As I moved my hand in, I thought, “he’s gonna bite me if I do this.” Even then, I continued on. Guess what happened. Seriously: guess. That’s right. He bit me. He bit me on my middle finger very lightly, breaking the skin in one small place where a drop of blood began to form. This was arguably a lesser wound than popping a pimple. However, pimples don’t carry the bubonic plague. When he bit me, I grabbed my finger, looked up at Joe and said, “that’s not good.” He immediately began to laugh at me and called me an idiot. I had no argument for this and frankly agreed with him. I then talked to the rat for about five minutes straight before deciding to give up on the little bastard. I felt bad walking away from him, but it was a lost cause. I got bitten by a rat for nothing. I hope he survived.

Below: An actual photograph of the actual rat who actually bit me.

The next day was the bad part. My brother told me at length how Rabies, gone untreated and once the symptoms have started, is uncurable. Furthermore, it melts your brain. That’s not the way I intend to go out, ok? So I was scared, but then after a little bit of internet research, I was able to ascertain that rats almost never carry rabies and that I should use orbitz for all my travel needs. So I don’t have rabies. But what about the plague? Well, rats have been known to carry the plague, but for some reason, I doubt that I have it, although it still exists. Whodathunk? Then I went online to look at the diseases rats carry. All of them were just various forms of bacteria that didn’t even have cool slang terms. If they don’t have common everyday slang terms for them, I’m not scared of them. I'm not scared of them for the same reason I’m scared of AIDS but not of acquired immuno deficiency syndrome. That syndrome will never get me! AIDS will take me out way before that syndrome will.

And thus is the tale of how I was bitten by a New York City rat that was inside a trashcan. A feat accomplished by well under 250 people a year in this city. Most of these 250 are babies, elderly, and homeless people. I would assume that the ones like me most often get bitten when they’re not expecting it. I however, am dumber than all these chumps. I’m the dumbest of them all, because I knew he was going to bite me and I put my hand in there anyway. I'm the dumbest! Number one! Unfortunately, and this is for a later discussion, it seems that the rat bite might turn out to be much more pleasant than trying to call this girl who’s number I got right before this incident.

Until next time, I’m Evan Jacobs.

This is my blog.