...that I probably will not be able to retell with nearly as much hilarity as when I heard it.
I got up this morning (this in not yet to the funny part) early to drive up to Decatur to spend the day. Having loaded up my car last night (does this sound like "Ground Hog Day" movie? Since I did the same thing last weekend?) with stuff for donating to the yard sale that will occur in the morning from 8 am till 2 pm. Good Luck With That. I can guarantee the shoppers will be here long before the appointed hour, looking for the best stuff, rooting through carefully sorted and arranged goods, demanding bargain.
Forgot F. had to go to work for several hours this morning. When we made the plan for me to come and spend the day, it was due to this Friday being an off day, which happens every other week. But me being sadly math impaired, I obviously got my weeks mis-counted and mis-laid the one where she did not have to go across town to prepare lunch for the hung-over, unappreciative crew at SAE frat. house.
The story is about an adventure the SAE guys had one day this week. They are as unclean and unkempt as you would expect unsupervised teenaged boys to be. Having never been taught some of what many in our society would consider basic survival skills. The sort of things usually taught young girls when they are in the early teens: sorting laundry before you throw it in the washer, how to operate the appliances, clean a bathroom, basic food prep. and 'clean up after yourself' skills. This group of privileged guys, probably never put their own dishes in the sink, much less loaded into the dishwasher, completely in the dark about life-skills, headed towards highly paid engineering positions in leading firms nation-wide.
They saw a rat, creeping out of a hole where there were several bricks missing in a retaining wall, just outside the dining room window. The door to the dining area does not completely close: constantly leaking cooled air to the great outdoors, never totally closed. Anything that is out there and wants to come in merely walks through the opening: squirrels, skinks, any creeping thing.
So naturally the rat can stand up on his hind legs, put on his bow-tie and bowler hat and stroll in at his leisure. The report I heard was when she came in to work the day after the rat incident is that the room looked like there had been a fire drill and everyone dashed out the door: turning over tables, chairs, drinks, couches, futons, cushions flying through the air. Total Chaos. Or possibly a tornado had touched down in the dining room.
The guys, when they finally showed up for lunch, said they noticed the rat creeping in the door and tried to stop it. I say: it's a wonder it was not trying to escape as nasty as a group of several dozen frat. guy can be in their personal hygiene skills. They chased it around the room a couple of times. Someone thought to go upstairs to the living quarters and get the two dogs that live in the house. While the guys down in the dining area were chasing the rat with an assortment of golf clubs, turning over chairs, couches, tossing cushions with abandon. I am surprised the dogs did not dash for the door when they had a chance. But they eventually caught the rat for the bumbling gold-club wielding guys. Do you have a mental image, looking like a cartoon: a dozen guys, wearing shorts, ratty T-shirts and flip-flops, hopping around the room, yelling and flailing about!
No comments:
Post a Comment