I don’t know about you guys, but I have lived in some dives. This is a story about a very special dump that I lived in for a while.
This house was broken, decaying without a doubt. The only level floor was the closed in front porch that I had claimed as my room. But for $200 a month, I couldn’t afford to go anywhere else at the time. The one bedroom had a crack that went from the center of the floor, up the outer wall, around the window and all the way across the ceiling. No one slept in that room. The Kitchen floor was a wooden that waved like the ocean thanks to hot water heater that had leaked for a long time before I moved in and pointed it out. It was rough. But cheap.
You think I am joking about this place? I can tag at least five or more folks on my facebook that would confess to how shitty this place was. I mean, the freaking Kitchen ceiling caved in barely two weeks after I left >,< Sorry Mike!
Anyhow, this is about the time it was me versus the monster rat in the ceiling. Many times in the middle of the night I would hear a huge BANG above my bed. Awake, I would watch the line of drop-down ceiling tiles bend under the weight of a monstrous rodent. Following this movement in my ceiling it stopped above the refrigerator. Scratching to get through, as if he could smell the food within.
Angrily I grumbled, “I am so sick of this. That’s it, I’m gonna scare you off as many times as it takes to deter you!”
Grabbing up my broom, I readied myself in front of the fridge. With all my rage, I jammed the broom handle into the ceiling tile, making it pop up along with the rat that sat on the other side.
I had failed to think my plan through. The tile did not fall back into place. It fell down on my side of it, the fridge holding it there like a tiny slide from hell. Screaming me and the rat looked to each other in terror. He could not stop from descending, and my body would not move.
“AHHHHHHH!” I shrieked as the rat landed on my head and I start running in circles beating at my head.
I grabbed him and flung him to the floor. My body was doing it’s own thing as it grabbed up my broom, jolted for the back porch door, opened it and shouted “OUT!”
The rat ran for his life out the open door… and I never saw him again.
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