Chapter 5 - "Party Animal"

"Party Animal"

So, here’s Ann, one of my closest friends, and I sitting in Bertucci’s Restaurant over lunch. She thought I needed to get out for a change,  saying that I’ve been looking a bit stressed out lately. It was so nice sitting there, taking in the sights and sounds (and aromas!) of this up-scale Italian restaurant. All around us, people were happily chatting, eating, doing whatever ‘normal’ people do.  And, there was me – was I really the only one ordering something that I knew a pack rat might love, left-over wise?  With more than 30 pasta creations, not to mention the plethora of fish, meat and other delicacies on the menu, I order a chopped salad, for crying out loud??!! Was the guy at the table  next to us really twitching his nose ever so slightly?? And, when the waitress dropped her pen and it rolled across the floor, was I actually the only one who picked her feet up quick-as-a-bunny, my hair somewhat standing up on end? This just had to be over soon – I could feel myself beginning to crack. I felt trapped (pardon the expression) in some weird time and space continuum. I think my flux capacitor is stuck. (Where are the Professor and Marty McFly when you need them?!)

The aromatic salad was spectacular as it over-flowed the dish. Perfect! There was plenty to take home. WHO would take something like a chopped salad home? You got it in one: me, the Maître’D of the” Rats Hotel”. At $10.99 for the damn salad, you bet your bippy I’m taking it home! Regardless! And so, Wicky was to dine on Bertucci chopped salad that evening.

Still, something was missing: I wasn’t thinking clearly enough. A pack rat is supposed to love to take things, right? Bright, shiny things – baubles, bangles and beads, correct? So, immersed in thought, I put a few out for him: three little shiny plastic gems from my crafts room were placed on ‘his’ slab of concrete by the flower pot. They sparkled in the sun like diamonds! Why stop there, I thought. Let’s go the whole Monty and give this critter something he’ll write home about! Grabbing a tomato sauce jar lid, I filled it with the only alcohol I have in the house, some Kahlua. Hey, it smells pretty good to me and I’ve been known to take a sip now and then. It was the best I could do. If it was good enough for me, it was good enough for him. If he’s staying at the Rats, he might as well be ‘wined and dined.’

With a little snicker, I set up the forward compartment of the trap with the chopped salad, and a peanut butter smeared cracker, some fresh peanuts, and the lid full of Kahlua.  Max and I went inside, but the phone rang and I became distracted. After that, it was on to making and then eating dinner, working on the computer, and watching a little TV (military channel, of course). I totally forgot about Wicky until the next morning.

The first thing I noticed was that all 3 fake gems were gone. Then…I saw that the trap was NOT sprung, the door was up…. and salad was thrown all over the place, the peanut butter had little feet prints in it, and like spent New Year’s Eve streamers, peanut shells were hanging from the grid-like walls of the trap…..but the jar lid of Kahlua, half dragged out of the trap, was now almost empty! Just a teeny smear of the sweet stuff was left on the bottom of the lid. Perplexed, I put the trap on the picnic table, and cleaned out the mess he left behind and added fresh food. I refilled the jar lid with more Kahlua, but in my hurry to return the trap to its customary place, I forgot to put it back in the trap. It remained on the picnic table, more or less fermenting in the sun.

I went back in the house to wait for Wicky, but he was no where in sight. He never made an appearance all day long. But, when he popped up later on toward supper time, I was in for a surprise:  To my total astonishment, he bypassed the trap full of food,  and headed straight toward the picnic table! Going right to the  jar lid, he licked it nearly clean of its contents,  and did so with great gusto. Then, he half hopped, half fell back down and literally zig-zagged directly back underneath the shed. Now, it made sense -- it is my guess that he slept off last night’s hangover all day long, and eventually came outside for Happy Hour!!

Ah HA! “I got your number, now!” I chuckle to myself. “So, you’re a party animal!!” That’s all I needed to know.  He had food, booze, gifts – what more could a self respecting pack rat want? Answer - just one more thing: the lid. The next morning, the jar lid was missing! Where are his morals?! Even worse, what have I helped to create here?? (Even FAR worse -- I am throwing my old picnic table out in the trash! It was going to go, anyway, but.....!!!)

I am going to devise a special modification to the trap. I’ll  let everyone know how it works out in the next installment.

Here he is, going for the "gold"!