the mouse who died a most horrible death

after so much rain, us urbanites were grateful for a sunny, lovely saturday to walk around our beloved parks, people watch, make fun of the suburbanites who take up the entire sidewalks with their families and SUV strollers, the bikers are out, whether they are couriers are not, doesn't matter. if you look it, people will believe you are it. the old men gather in the park to smoke their expensive cuban cigars. cigarettes are for the poor. the wealthy smoke cigars. nannies are out in droves, pushing the SUV strollers. asian babies are out in full force. some with asian parents. some with white parents. kids are running after pigeons. dogs are on parade. some in silly ribbons or clothes. others with their mouths muzzled. the young professionals with their briefcases, drink in hand, sitting outside at the cafe complaining how they had to work on a saturday. all in all, i paint a picture of a typical saturday in philly. it is mundane. it is trite. it can be overwhelming and annoying with the congestion and traffic. all of this makes it perfect. a perfect saturday morning.

i awoke on saturday. early. about 7:30. i am an early riser on the weekends. i think because i am so excited it is the weekend, that i awake with excitement. i wake up early to try to make my weekend last longer. in my head, this all makes sense. perfect sense. anyways, i awoke on saturday. i saw how lovely it was outside. i took a shower. made some coffee. sat out on my deck and drank in the sun and read my comics that i have neglected. it was bliss. as i soaked in this moment, my tummy growled. power pellets down. need food. need to feed myself. i never ignore the call of my tummy. it is like the bat signal. no, it is like the red phone the commissioner would answer. total emergency. i need eggs. i need more coffee. i need BACON. none of this turkey bacon. i need real bacon.

i call up my bff, jonathan. he is awake and he sounds like he is ok, not hungover. yes! let's walk around the city and find food. he's game. who says no to food?! no one i am friends with. upon feeding my tummy and restoring my health back to all hearts, we walk. browsing stores. complaining how all our friends are hungover. (you all know who you are! :) the day was just a nice calm day. it was a day of catching up on what has happened to us all week. contemplating what next hair style we should try. what music we used to listen to. what bands we miss. and who we wish we saw. it was a day to do nothing and everything all at once. again, a nice saturday.

as we walked back, our flow of conversation goes from off tangent back to the topic. it's how we roll. jonathan tells me a story. a story i can't get out of my head. even today, i am thinking about it. writing about it. it haunts me.

living in the city, even if you alone, you never really are. urbanites have unwanted roommates if you will. squatters so to speak. mice. not rats like our ny friends. but mice. little farmer field mice. i almost picture these mice wearing a bandana and a corn pipe. unfortunately, the mice in philly do not sport gingham. jonathan tells me he has a mouse. i said oh no. before i can continue to speak, he tells me there is more to his tale. he came home one night and saw a mouse sitting on his kitchen countertop. yes, urban mice are quite brazen. they sit and look you straight in the eye. you're the trespasser they seem to say, not them. i know this look. i've seen it! anyhow, he tells me he sees the mouse in his kitchen. he is still and the mouse runs
away from his grasp. but no, it runs into the sink and down into his GARBAGE DISPOSAL. wha?! i am speechless. what did you do? jonathan replies he couldn't fit his hand into the disposal to get the mouse out. he used chopsticks and left them hoping the mouse would use it as a ladder to escape later. no such luck. for 3 days, this mouse stayed in the dark dank disposal. jonathan was distraught. why wouldn't the mouse leave?! in my head as he is telling me the story, i am thinking, this poor mouse. he hid in a death trap. food goes down. it doesn't come back up. this mouse was doomed. what happened after 3 days? i am almost afraid to hear his answer. he turned on the water and the switch. it was over in an instant.

the mouse among orange peels, milano crumbs, coffee grinds, this was the mouse's burial ground. the sharp blades cutting him to bits.

other suggestions, he could have turned on the hot water and the mouse could have drowned or he would have escaped to avoid the water. smoke him out. he could have dropped poison. he could have called me. or next time, call me, i have small hands.

this poor mouse. he should have used the chopsticks. he should have known not to go into another man's kitchen. he should have gone down another hole. not the sink hole. a hole in the wall. he made a wrong turn. of mice and men. no, of mice and man. mouse vs. man. man always wins.

city mouse. RIP 2008.