The Bat Returns…Dun Dun Dun!

After writing The Bat a few weeks ago, another co-worker read the post and emailed me her own harrowing story about encountering one of the furry, flying beasts in the same attic at work.  The following is her terrifying tale.  As with the last post, names have been changed.

It was after hours and the attic had cleared.  Ted’s ladies had left for the evening and Becky was safely in her car on her way home.  Cindy and I were working away and chatting, as we often did.   Cindy went to the washroom and then to collect a print job when she was done. I tapped away on my laptop.  En route to her office Cindy stopped at my desk and stood, staring at me. I peered up.  “What?”  She said:  “Go look above the fax machine”.   I was leery, yet curious.

My “Why?”  garnered no response.  With a sigh I heaved myself out of my chair.   Around the corner I crept – at a snail’s pace.  Upon reaching the fax machine I looked at the wall.  And I stared.  And then I considered what I was staring at.  I tilted my head, to ensure that I was considering what I thought I was considering.    And then I let out a blood curdling scream.  It was a bat!!!!  A very large killer bat with big sharp teeth.   The winged rodent stared at me with it’s dark beady eyes.  I whipped around and ran smack into Cindy.  By then she had stopped laughing at my initial reaction. Clearly, my own terror had incited panic in her as well.  We ran back to her office (as I only had a cubby for crying out loud!) and slammed the door with a bang. We then picked up the phone and hit the page button.

In a raspy, fear laden voice I said:  “Will any male still in the building please come to the attic of 551?”.

The clock ticked.  No one came.  We tried again.  “We repeat, Cindy and Ruth really need the assistance of any able bodied male still in the building”.  Before I hung up I added:  “Please get your ass up here in a hurry”.

My desperation must have been apparent.   Barney made his way up the stairs.  We told him where the beast was and tiptoed behind him while he went to check it out.  When he turned the corner, with us in his shadow, I swear the damn thing flapped its wings to mock us.  Cindy and I screamed and tore back to the office.  Before we could slam the door for a second time Barney tried to come in.  Hell No!!  We locked him out and told him to catch the damn thing.

Hearing the commotion Steve finally made his way up.  He scoffed at Cindy and I who had not only locked ourselves in her office but were hiding behind a partition.  Steve grabbed a garbage can and trapped the bat.

I wore a hooded sweatshirt for the next three weeks and put the hood up every night after hours.  No way a bat was going to get caught in my hair….  I kept a binder at my desk to swat away any unexpected visitors.  No way a bat was going to get caught in my hair……  (See, those who haven’t worked at our office would think me paranoid.  But we know better don’t we?)

How I did not go on short term disability for emotional distress is beyond me.  I still shutter at the thought of it all.  This chick and bats do NOT get along.

We haven’t seen a bat in a very long time, but re-reading these stories makes me laugh all over again, but at the same time it makes me slightly wary…

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The Bat

After the tale of the over-caffeinated squirrel that I posted (see it here) a friend of mine from work reminded me of an email that was sent around a couple of years ago by her mother, who also works with us.  It is a tale of fear and triumph over nature and luckily, my friend still had it saved in one of her folders for occasional perusal and amusement.  What follows is the tale in it’s original form.  I hope you enjoy it as much as we all did.  Names have been changed to protect those involved.

Upon ascending the stairs to the 3rd floor attic this morning, with a view to getting an early start on the day, I flipped on the office light and proceeded to my desk when out of the corner of my eye I spied something.  I turned to have a better look and my first thought was, “What is that? (I didn’t have my glasses on and thus it appeared to be a dark furry blob on the wall) Is that a wallpaper swatch?  Is the office manager going to wallpaper up here?”  Upon closer inspection I came to the conclusion that no, indeed it was not a wallpaper swatch, as I had initially believed.  It was in actual fact a dreaded BAT.  As I peered at it in shock and surprise, it glared back, bared its fangs and began to unfold its wings in preparation of flight.  I needed no further prompting and descended the stairs at breakneck speed in search of someone brave enough to do battle with the colossal winged monster.  I happened upon Bob working diligently in his office.  He looked up from his work and saw the terror etched on my face.  He inquired as to what could possibly have happened to cause me such a fright.  I told my tale of the monster in the attic and Bob replied, “You’re kidding, right?  A bat?”  I explained that this was not just a bat, but a monster with red eyes, huge fangs and extremely large wings.  After much eye-rolling and sighing, Bob climbed the stairs to the attic.  He asked where it was and I pointed to the wall where the monster continued to lay.  Bob’s eyes widened at the sight, but then he proceeded to look for a container large enough to contain the beast.  He finally settled on a piece of Tupperware.  I was sure the monster would never fit in that little thing, but keep my opinion to myself. Bob approached the beast with his Tupperware raised, prepared for attack.  I hung back, unwilling to get caught up in the fray that was sure to ensue as I was armed only with a banana.  After a virtual cornucopia of swear words and much gnashing of teeth, Bob managed to contain the monster within the selected Tupperware container.  We both rushed to the exit to set the monster free.  As we vacated the building Bob said, “Gee I didn’t know their fangs were that big!  Do you think it would bite me?”  I declined to comment.

I would like to thank  Bob for his unwavering bravery with respect to the capture and release of the beast.

This post has provided much giggling and amusement over the years and I agreed with my friend…it needed to be shared with the world.  I hope you enjoy it.

A Coffee Mug Gone Astray

When things go missing in an office, it causes a ruckus.  When you work with the same people day in and day out, you become somewhat of a family, albeit, a dysfunctional one.  When you suddenly come to the realization that something of your own has gone missing, it causes a horrible feeling in your stomach somewhat akin to betrayal (or possibly like you just ate at Taco Bell).

It’s a well documented fact that such behaviour from my coworkers doesn’t just annoy me, it drives me into a rage-filled frenzy during which my head spins in circles and I start to foam at the mouth.  It’s not a pretty sight.

Previously, I have only experienced the thievery of coffee (see here and here) and office supplies (see here, here, here, and here).  These were technically things paid for and supplied by the higher ups and were easily replaced.  These were not my own personal property and we all know how well I took it when these things we missing:

This is what it metaphorically felt like to find out that my stuff had gone missing

Today, however, was something different entirely.  Today the item that went missing was something of my own that I had brought in from home.  Something that was a birthday gift from my sister.  Let me set the scene for you.

As you may or may not be aware, I am a HUGE fan of the movie “Office Space“.  In my opinion, it embodies the exact way of life when you live half your day in a cubicle (with humerous exaggerations of course).  For my birthday two years ago, my sister gave me the “Office Space Survival Kit”.  There were many goodies inside, all relating to the film, but my favourite was Lumburgh’s coffee mug with the Initech logo on it.

I love this mug because I makes me giggle every single time I fill it up at the coffee machine at work.  I always hear Lumburgh’s voice saying, “Yeah…”  It makes my morning.  So if you couldn’t tell, I’m pretty attached to this particular conveyance of hot beverages.

Today, I was on my way down to cover the break for our receptionist.  I put the mug in the little receiving part of the machine, put the coffee cartridge in and hit the button before I went to do a few other things.  I forgot about my coffee until I got downstairs to the reception desk and I decided to get it when I went back up to my own desk.  Well, imagine my surprise when I reached my destination and there was nothing sitting in the coffee machine, waiting to be consumed.

At first I thought someone had needed to use the coffee maker and simply set it aside or dumped it and put it up on the shelf, as this has happened before.  I checked the surrounding area and oddly, did not find any sign of my beloved mug.  So then I pondered, “Who in their right mind would take a mug of coffee off the machine that they didn’t make?”  This seemed like a ridiculous notion and I thought, “No, I simply must be very scatterbrained from my allergy medications and put it on my desk.”  I checked…it was not there.  Then I thought, “Surely I actually took it down to reception with me and left it behind.”  I went and checked…not there either.  I then retraced my steps, my anger building with each new area explored only to discover a lack of awesome coffee mug.  Eventually, I got angry and started mumbling and ranting as I again checked all the places I’d been that morning.

Someone finally asked me if I was alright (they probably thought they should stop me before I had a complete meltdown and went Office Space [yes…my friends and I use the movie title as a verb to describe freaking out in the workplace] and tore the floor apart looking for a coffee mug).  I explained my situation and the dire need to have my precious mug back in my hands and someone started laughing and told me that one of our higher ups (we shall call him Bob) had been talking about coffee and had probably taken mine in an fit of absentmindedness.

I went to Bob’s office and there it was, my awesome mug in all it’s glory.  When I explained the situation, Bob was very apologetic and nice enough to even wash the mug for me before giving it back.  I trotted back to my desk, happy as a clam (after filling it up with delicious coffee of course) and sipped at the life giving beverage as I continued my daily grind.

So this story actually has a happy ending, unlike those of the stolen coffee cartridges (which is still happening now and then, this time by the entire box) and the missing staple removers (though I am happy to report that tying mine to the desk has actually managed to keep it around thus far).  So thank you Bob for so nicely returning my mug and keeping my head from actually exploding.