Hood of the Car Story
Okay, since you guys requested, I'm going to post the "Hood of the Car" story. If you've heard it before, well, there's not much I can do about it. It's really best told in person, especially if Kate and Max are around cuz they can chime in and add their perspectives so you really get the full picture, a la "Rashomon." Actually, Max did write his version down as a hard-boiled detective story (I think it was one of my Valentine's gifts one year) so I'll post that next. And maybe Kate will humor us and post her version under comments. Anyway here it goes:
It was a really nice sunny day and I had just left a bbq at my friend's house. Got in the car, drove back home. I got a few honks on the way back but I figured whoever honked just thought I was cute (of course), right? As if THAT'S gonna get my attention...(tossing my imaginary Pantene-like hair back)...whatever, dude. So anyway, I pulled into my parking garage, reversed into my space, and turned off the engine. A few neighbors were standing there, unloading their trunks. I noticed that they were staring at the hood of my car, so I looked to see what they were looking at it. There was a gray mashy pile of something right on the hood, in front of the passenger seat. I immediately assumed a baby bird must have fallen out of tree and hit the car while I was at the bbq. I was pretty grossed out but not nearly as grossed out as my neighbors, who were making really really grossed out faces at me. You know - noses wrinkled, eyes squinted, mouths in a grimace - universal for - "Ewwwww...that is some NASTY shit." So, embarassed, I made the same face back at them, rolled down the window and sheepishly asked, "Ugh...what is that???" Bearing in mind that they were Russian, their answer sounded a lot like "RUT!!! A DEAD RUT!!! IT'S A DEAD RUT!!!"
Okay.
Let me just explain something about me. When faced with an emergency situation, I will either overreact extremely, as in the case of the Mouse House story below, or I will totally bury my head in the sand and embrace denial like it's my long lost best friend.
So I shouted back "A BABY BIRD? YOU MEAN, A BABY BIRD???" They shouted back, "NO, A RUT!!!" And I was like, "What? A BABY BIRD!" And they were like "NO A RUT!!" and then they charaded for minute, making rodent gestures, until I screamed, horrified, as it finally sunk in, "A RAT!!!!????? YOU MEAN A RAT!!!!????" I immediately rolled up the window and resisted the urge to crawl into the back seat, far far away from the rat, which was really in no condition to suddenly rise up and come near me. After a few seconds, I figured I had to get back in my apartment so I ran out of the car, ran straight into my apartment, threw open the door, and screamed to Kate (my roommate at the time) "THERE'S A DEAD RAT ON THE HOOD OF MY CAR!!!"
So Kate, being the awesome friend that she is and the second Best Person of the Year 2001 (top honors going to Max that year), told me she would go clean it up for me. So I watched her roll up her sleeves, grab a large plastic bag and head out the door. I watched anxiously by the window as she walked down the stairs and turned down into the garage, and waited for her return. Several minutes later, a really repulsed Kate came back with the garbage bag - empty and unused. She spotted me in the window and shouted up "Oh god. I can't do it!! It's so nasty!!! A MAGGOT CRAWLED OUT OF IT AND WAVED AT ME!!"
Apparently this was one very very dead rat.
So we both sat around recovering, trying to figure out what to do when I decided to call Max. I think that when this happened, we had only been dating for a few months. Max agreed to come to our rescue immediately. We waited anxiously for him to get here and when he did, we made him a really really strong drink before sending him down to the garage.
And I'm happy to say he did take care of it for me. He got a piece of cardboard, scraped the rat off the hood and threw it away. Incidentally, he told me that the rat was not only super dead, but had sizzled on the hood of the car (remember, it was a really nice sunny day) so there was still an imprint of it left on the hood. So he went back down and cleaned the entire hood and windshield (there were actually bloody tufts of fur that had splattered and attached itself to the windshield - entirely unbeknownst to me) so that when I finally ventured to go back downstairs, well after I made him wash his hands a million times (even though I think I gave him dishwashing gloves), there was absolutely no trace of dead rat anywhere.
So that is one of the numerous reasons why I love my boyfriend.
Lesson to be learned from this story:
If someone honks at you, maybe it's not because they think you're cute - maybe they're trying to tell you you're driving around L.A. with a dead rat on the hood of your car.
It was a really nice sunny day and I had just left a bbq at my friend's house. Got in the car, drove back home. I got a few honks on the way back but I figured whoever honked just thought I was cute (of course), right? As if THAT'S gonna get my attention...(tossing my imaginary Pantene-like hair back)...whatever, dude. So anyway, I pulled into my parking garage, reversed into my space, and turned off the engine. A few neighbors were standing there, unloading their trunks. I noticed that they were staring at the hood of my car, so I looked to see what they were looking at it. There was a gray mashy pile of something right on the hood, in front of the passenger seat. I immediately assumed a baby bird must have fallen out of tree and hit the car while I was at the bbq. I was pretty grossed out but not nearly as grossed out as my neighbors, who were making really really grossed out faces at me. You know - noses wrinkled, eyes squinted, mouths in a grimace - universal for - "Ewwwww...that is some NASTY shit." So, embarassed, I made the same face back at them, rolled down the window and sheepishly asked, "Ugh...what is that???" Bearing in mind that they were Russian, their answer sounded a lot like "RUT!!! A DEAD RUT!!! IT'S A DEAD RUT!!!"
Okay.
Let me just explain something about me. When faced with an emergency situation, I will either overreact extremely, as in the case of the Mouse House story below, or I will totally bury my head in the sand and embrace denial like it's my long lost best friend.
So I shouted back "A BABY BIRD? YOU MEAN, A BABY BIRD???" They shouted back, "NO, A RUT!!!" And I was like, "What? A BABY BIRD!" And they were like "NO A RUT!!" and then they charaded for minute, making rodent gestures, until I screamed, horrified, as it finally sunk in, "A RAT!!!!????? YOU MEAN A RAT!!!!????" I immediately rolled up the window and resisted the urge to crawl into the back seat, far far away from the rat, which was really in no condition to suddenly rise up and come near me. After a few seconds, I figured I had to get back in my apartment so I ran out of the car, ran straight into my apartment, threw open the door, and screamed to Kate (my roommate at the time) "THERE'S A DEAD RAT ON THE HOOD OF MY CAR!!!"
So Kate, being the awesome friend that she is and the second Best Person of the Year 2001 (top honors going to Max that year), told me she would go clean it up for me. So I watched her roll up her sleeves, grab a large plastic bag and head out the door. I watched anxiously by the window as she walked down the stairs and turned down into the garage, and waited for her return. Several minutes later, a really repulsed Kate came back with the garbage bag - empty and unused. She spotted me in the window and shouted up "Oh god. I can't do it!! It's so nasty!!! A MAGGOT CRAWLED OUT OF IT AND WAVED AT ME!!"
Apparently this was one very very dead rat.
So we both sat around recovering, trying to figure out what to do when I decided to call Max. I think that when this happened, we had only been dating for a few months. Max agreed to come to our rescue immediately. We waited anxiously for him to get here and when he did, we made him a really really strong drink before sending him down to the garage.
And I'm happy to say he did take care of it for me. He got a piece of cardboard, scraped the rat off the hood and threw it away. Incidentally, he told me that the rat was not only super dead, but had sizzled on the hood of the car (remember, it was a really nice sunny day) so there was still an imprint of it left on the hood. So he went back down and cleaned the entire hood and windshield (there were actually bloody tufts of fur that had splattered and attached itself to the windshield - entirely unbeknownst to me) so that when I finally ventured to go back downstairs, well after I made him wash his hands a million times (even though I think I gave him dishwashing gloves), there was absolutely no trace of dead rat anywhere.
So that is one of the numerous reasons why I love my boyfriend.
Lesson to be learned from this story:
If someone honks at you, maybe it's not because they think you're cute - maybe they're trying to tell you you're driving around L.A. with a dead rat on the hood of your car.
posted by S at 11:03 AM
3 Comments:
perhaps i missed this, but how in God's name did the rat end up on your car in the first place????
ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
That is the question of the century! Seriously, I have no idea. My guess is that it had died in a tree and then it fell onto my hood. I can't imagine that someone would actually put it on my car, as that would require actually picking it up...
That is by far my worst rodent story...
i would have to agree it would be anyone's worse rodent story. ... i can't think of a worse thing happening... blah.
i'll have to think of my worse one and post it... so far, i've been very lucky. my run-ins have been with live critters... actually, i'm not sure that is better.
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