….and For My Next Trick, Ladies and Gentlemen…..


The lower part of our building is rented by two professionals. The lunchroom is also part of the lower part, but we rarely use it. It is used mostly by the tenants downstairs. It has come to our attention that they have a bit of a “ahem” rodent problem down there. Suggestions such as “maybe taking out your trash every night” and “it’s probably not a good idea to leave dirty dishes in the sink” were met with a frosty glare. I have to say that they tried those recommendations after they were suggested, (hard to believe that it had to be suggested, but there you have it) but it was a case of horse and barn door at that point.

Enter a bug guy. (You know them — guys in brown uniforms with large spray cans of who knows what wearing rubber gloves and goggles. They always try to tell you that the can contents are not toxic to anything but bugs. Bah!!) This bug guy spent nearly two hours down there setting those snappy traps and the sticky traps. We were starting to believe that he had set a trap down for every square foot of floor space. Kind of like the Sylvester and Tweety cartoons with the yard full of dogs.

Later that day — I go downstairs to pull a couple charts for incoming patients. (We have a utility room under the stairs that is just for old charts and other odd stuff. Like mice, apparently.) Although I have tried to make the filing as simple as possible, sometimes it’s a bit confusing and will involve opening several storage boxes before finding the chart you need.

So here I am, heaving boxes here and there and not really watching what I am doing. Or where I am stepping. Suddenly, my foot (I was wearing my old faithful Börn clogs which have a rubber sole) didn’t feel quite right. Looking down, I see that I had managed to step onto one of thoselol smiley sticky sheets. Darn little sucker wouldn’t come off. I took off my shoe and pulled on a corner of it for all I was worth — nothing. Tried using the other hand. Nada. (Of course my thumbs are so strong, I don’t understand why I was having a problem.) Finally, after pulling on this stupid thing for what seemed like hours, and thinking to myself, “terrific, I’m going to have to go upstairs with my shoe in my hand and find somebody to get this thing off for me”, I threw the shoe on the floor. Looked at it. Looked again. Stood on it with both feet. Bent over and hit my head on a box. Swore. Twice. Stood on it again. Pulled on one corner with both wimpy thumbs. Slowly, slowly it came off — then apparently decided that it had had enough fun with me and came off all at once. At which time I fell on my butt and hit my head on a box in back of me. More cussing. Even more being glad that there was no one there to witness my theatrics. Threw the sticky little #$@&^%* down on the floor again, picked up my charts and made my way back up the stairs, thump, whsht, thump, whsht, thump……. TGIF!!


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