Friendship the Rat

Walking along the lovely, rose-strewn streets of downtown Los Angeles last night, I saw two of the biggest goddamn rats of all time. I mean these were Secret of NIMH big, and they were scampering away from us on feet so heavy you could hear it almost half a block away.

Not running away, as I felt they had no need to fear us. Scampering, one after the other, perhaps in some kind of obese rat foreplay scenario.

Only the thing is, as they rounded the corner and pranced out of sight, one of them turned on around and lumbered back toward us. Well, toward me. Fucking directly toward me. While I have no way of telling what was going through this trundling behemoth's rodent brain, which might as well have been "FRIEEEEEENDSHIIIIIP" the way it was kind of buoying around jovially like an RV that currently contained an orgy, I do know what was going through my mind. One word quickly followed by another, the first being what I was wearing and the second being a vaguely illogical, panic-driven survival word designed to catch my attention and spur me from my paralysis.

"Sandals. Also, AIDS."

By Alex's estimate, the thing was three feet away from me by the time I raised one foot and stomped it down in a menacing gesture, causing the rat to turn tail and run away. It looked like a rather macho gesture, both arms crooked back at the shoulder and elbow, strength displayed. Really, it was the first part of what would have been a scaredy cat dance while I yelled "EWWWWW RAT GET IT OFF GET IT OFF EWWY EWWY EW!"

I want out of downtown.