The Bat in the Room

Last night I came home from work to discover a bat sitting in the middle of the floor.  I'd actually finished my supper before I even noticed it.  There it was, a little black and brown hairy ball blended in perfectly with the polished concrete floors.  I wasn't sure what it was at first, just that I didn't want it there.  Gross.

I grabbed a broom to poke what was now clearly a bat and just as the bristles approached his body he turned his little head and let out a soft hiss.  OH SH*T!  This thing is still alive! As though I wasn't already grossed out by this veiny armed little rodent, now I had to be concerned that I was going to piss him off. 

You might think I'm just being a baby about this, but this isn't actually the first time I've had my run in with a bat.  No, back in the summer of 2006 when I was working one of my summer jobs I came across a bat hiding in the crease of a bag in the storage shed.  Same type deal.  I poked him, he hissed, and in a final effort to get him off the bag he took flight and lunged in my direction.  I can't remember ever running so fast.

With this story still fresh in my mind I was pretty sure I didn't want this little guy flying around my loft and getting lost behind the ducts or in one of my bookshelves.  It's the ducts, by the way, that I assume allowed him in in the first place.  Like I said, I live in a loft and all of the duct work is exposed with small screwable covers that allow the air in.  Somehow he found himself in the ducts and then fell out into my apartment.  FYI, I've now screwed all of the covers closed.

Anyway, so with the poking a no go, I opted for the home exterminators most versatile tool, the mighty plastic bucket.  I actually taped it to the end of my broom and gently lowered it on top of him.  Then I removed the broom, holding the bucket in place, and used a thin piece of cardboard to gently tuck underneath.  This pissed off my furry friend.  Although I knew there was no way he could get out, as soon as the cardboard reached him he began loudly hissing, then squeaking, then moving about.  Feeling the movement probably grossed me out the most.

My biggest fear the entire time was that he was going to start flying around, which was why I was probably more hesitant and cautious than I really needed to be.

Now holding the cardboard and the bucket, I had the bat in a makeshift prison and was on the move.  I had already gone through the trouble of opening my door as well as the door at the end of the hallway so there was no chance that I'd drop this guy and have to do this again.  He started flapping and I could feel my adrenaline surge as I became increasingly nervous that I'd slip up and he'd escape the bucket in a fit of rage, thirsty for revenge, out for the kill, with the taste of blood fresh in his mind!  That, or I was just genuinely scared of this thing.  One or the other.

I got him outside and left the bucket behind the dumpster.  If he wasn't already near death from the heat, he'll have escaped and should be fine.  Really, I'm just glad that I didn't wake up in the middle of the night to something flapping around my place.  I would've had to pull out the Nerf gun and that's a more complicated strategy than the one with the bucket. Yup, it was just another day in the life of a video editor.