Humor: just when I needed it

Last night, I came home from being out with friends, was sitting at my lovely antique table (my propriétaire has great taste), checking email when from behind the futon couch came a little scurrying black shadow - running into my open closet. "Oh no you didn't.. snap!" A lil meese? Noooo.. Ugh.

I sat quietly for a few seconds and out of the other side of the closet the little mousey ran to the apartment door, around the wall, and into the bathroom. Of course, my bathroom is totally boring so I climbed up onto a counter top to wait for its exit (a bit of the "Eek! Eek!" fear ala get as high off the ground as possible, plus a good place for observation - ok, more of the former than latter). And, it did exit, running directly into the crevice under/near the freezer. There's plenty of space back there to hide - if you don't get too close to the oven. I waited. No movement. For like half-hour. So, I went to the apartment door, opened it a bit, put a potato chip at the doorway, and climbed into bed.

Woke up this morning to my neighbor's voice, "Loreeen? Loreeen?"
"Huh? Yeah?" I called from my bed.
"Are you okay? Your door is open."
"I know. There's a mouse. I wanted it to leave."
"Okay," he left the door open and I heard him whisper under his breath, "Jesus."

Not sure if it was a "Jesus, now the thing's going to move to my apartment!" or a "Jesus, she's crazy."

Today, I had a list: mouse trap, air mattress. I went off to buy the inflatable mattress over at BHV, a 7-story hell of department store. Remember my story about lines before? And the non-order of walking on the sidewalk? Well, put them all together and you get Bangalore traffic hell, weaving around and between, and after a while just wanting to march through everyone and everything. But, I started my venture calmly with my mp3-player and feeling relaxed.

Sous-sol (basement) level, I asked a young woman where I could find things for "sourise" but of course, the "ou/o" of anything is hard for non-French speakers to pronounce. There's amour, sourise, mort, coeur, soeur, corps. They all sound differently and require different lip pursing and are sometimes ooo, uh, ohr, and darn if I can't get them right EVER. So, she had no idea what I was saying. I made hand gestures of something little and said "chat" and she got it. Then she asked if I wanted blah blah blah and I had no idea what she was saying. (When speaking a language to a foreigner, please please please remember not that you have to YELL your language, but slow it down and really pronunciate like we're morons. It helps.) So, I just made the gesture with finger across my neck of "dead." She pointed me to the jardin section of the store.

Weaved between the hot lights and thousands of shoppers and found the fertilizer section and then the shelves of death. God, I didn't want to do this. Poison, cages, the old school wooden and wire traps that could break a finger. I was looking for this thing, because I thought it was more of a Hungry Hungry Hippo idea, where the mouse would go for the bait and then be trapped in a cute little box.

Instead, I picked up the Powercat Mausefalle, like the former link. I opened it and it snapped shut and I screamed. The older guy next to me, very studious and straight-faced about browsing his death choices, smirked a bit. I shuddered and tossed two of them into my basket.

Yes, yes, yes, I'm all for animal rights and am a vegetarian and, as you recall from my entry about my former Geneva housecat, Lion, I'm really not okay with dead animal parts or wholes. My propriétaire replied to my emails with "Poor mouse. I wonder where she comes from. If there's no food for her, she should leave." First of all, identifying it with a gender makes it all the harder for me, but sourise is a female word so it gets a "la sourise" so it's not really that she's a cute little girl small rat or big mouse, but I think he was trying to get sympathy from me. But I have to house 3 people during the upcoming conference. And, I'm really not interested in going about my business in the apartment to all of a sudden find a mouse staring at me from the garbage cupboard. And all the normal apartment creaks and groans have now become a gigantic King Kong sized mouse that is trying to attack me. Yes, active imagination, but also .... I'm sure it's accurate.

I'm sorry but she's got to go. And I have no idea how I'll deposit her if she is found sleeping peacefully in a heaven of fromage, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. In all actuality, I am firmly believing that she found the open apartment door last night, turned to my sleeping body, and was like, "Ciao!" And, no she is not an extra from Ratatouille either.

With mouse traps in the basket I turned to go off and find an inflatable mattress for one of said 3 guests who will be staying with me. Up the crowded escalators to the 3rd floor. The guy I asked for a "matelas d'aire" didn't understand me at all. I made blowing motions and he said "matelas gonfliable" or something. He didn't know where they were so he pointed me to the bedding department. The woman there said sous-sol and I hollered that off to the guy as I headed off. He smiled and thanked me.

I went off down the escalators to the sous-sol -- again. Found two employees standing around. I do love the politeness of Paris. You don't just walk up to the store employees and ask, "Where are the air mattresses, please?" You walk up, say "Bonjour," they say "Bonjour," and then you move on to your question. So, I did the hellos and asked. He shook his head. Not here any longer, try the 6th floor. Very nice about it. I turned to head to the escalators but the prospect of facing the unorganized herd made me about want to throw-up. I turned back to him and asked where the elevators were. He answered something blah blah laugh laugh question. His colleague smiled and walked away in embarrassment. "Desole? Comment?" I asked back. "Don't tell me you don't have a place to sleep tonight. Because you should just tell me and I'll help you." He laughed, I laughed (that was all in French but I understood), and I laughed all the way to the elevators.

The elevator held 10 people and it beep beep beeped. One guy got off and it kept beeping. I got off. Ugh. Looked for another elevator location - nada. Escalators all the way to the 6th floor. Got the air mattress for 25% off, checked out with the nice girl behind the counter. Headed back to the elevators. I was first in line, but the elevator next to mine opened and those waiting behind me piled on -- of course. Leaving not very much room. While they tried to point to room and invite me in, I shook my head. Whatever. Got the next one down.

I needed that mid-shopping laugh so badly. Not only did it say, you're cute, but also let's joke around.

Well, mice traps out. (Picture me propping them open and delicately placing them on the floor and then jumping back a mile as if they are grenades.) Air mattress in the closet. We'll see what happens in the end.