I left DC...Rats

This weekend was great. After work, I drove to NoVA to visit my NoVA friend. We went to Georgetown via metro (Foggy Bottom stop. Minor hike in high heels never hurt anyone, right?) Dinner was at a place I'd been to once before, called Miss Saigon. I had Chicken Curry, and it was excellent, although poor Bev's Lemongrass Chicken was decidedly not lemongrass and possibly not chicken. After dinner, we wandered, freezing, through the street of Georgetown - M, the only street that matters on a Saturday night - looking for a place that was neither too crowded nor a fire hazard - although I think we were cold enough that a fire hazard may have been nice; a crackling blaze to warm out the autumnal chill – but apparently, M street hops on a Saturday night. Who knew?

We decided to head down a side street toward the canal and the Potomac, and fortuitously happened on a cute and warm French bistro. The warmth of hot chocolate spiked with peppermint schnapps beckoned, but they also had Pastis on the menu. Anise liquor? Let me at it.

Do you know, I think that stuff singed my nose hair - not that I have nose hair; that would be very unladylike of me. It's so strong! I'm officially addicted, although Dad says it has some kind of adverse health affect. I'll look that up right now. In the meantime, you can see what we looked like all dolled up...




...Well, I found nothing. Not that I looked too hard. I wonder if Dad was thinking about Absinthe, which contains a mild hallucinogen derived from wormwood - and is definitely bad for you.

So, we left the café, and I walked – comfortable in a warm glow induced by my thimbleful of anise flavored nose-hair depilatory – confidently in the direction I thought the metro was. What genius in our group appointed me fearless leader? Along the walk, I was mildly startled by a rustling in the bushes next to me.

Before I continue, I must advise you. I am a country girl. I know squirrels, I know chipmunks, I know toads, slugs, rabbits, horses, cows, foxes, bobcats, wild cats, run-away dogs, snails, spiders, frogs, deer, groundhogs, bats, birds, dingbats and nerds. Fine, those last two aren’t animals, but I do know some of each. There are some animals I am just not used to seeing.

Back to the rustling.

There is rustling in the bushes, and I want to catch a glimpse of the squirrel or chipmunk – cause those are the major cause of rustling in bushes that I am aware of – because I think small rodents are cute. “Aw, look, guys,” I coo, pointing to the blurry form, “It’s a chip…” My face falls, and I snatch my finger back, “–rat.”

To be fair, rats don’t bother me. I could dissect them. I could keep them as a pet – correction, I could keep a female rat as a pet. Male rats have those odd things between their back feet and their tail that male rats have, and I can so deal without that. I can watch movies with them creeping through the dark sewers and flooding out of the toilet. (If you can tell me which movie I’ve seen that in, I’d appreciate it, by the way)

But, I’ve never seen rats in public before.

Furthermore, I’ve never seen 4 of them in a span of 5 minutes

Moreover, I’ve never seen one hanging under a bench making out with a McDonalds bag while two oblivious GW students play tonsil hockey on aforementioned bench.

It was a traumatic experience. I hope neither of those kids got rabies.