Severe Heat Advisory with a Chance of Bat Showers Possible


Does anyone have any idea on how many days we’ve endured 90 plus degree temperatures? I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if it were a Drrryyy heat. This humidity is killing me.

KILLING ME.

How many people have you said that to? Or, how many people have said it to you (excluding me)?

I really can’t recall the last time I heard “Severe Heat Advisory” bleeping over my TV screen, and I’ve lived here my whole life.

I’ve been grateful for the consistency to which Com Ed has been graciously providing me electricity, so I can keep my home at a cool 75 degrees.  And now that I’m grateful for no brownouts, and have publicly spoken it, I’m sure God will provide me with heat stroke tomorrow when my electricity decides to go out at 2 am tomorrow morning.

This heat causes alot of crazy stuff to happen. Maybe not particularly to me, but to my good friend, Margie. Margie has bats in her belfry. No, no, no……Margie isn’t crazy with regard to that old saying (although some may dispute this remark). She really has bats – but with modern times and all, we’ll call her “belfry” an attic.

Margie and I are old high school friends who reconnected on…..that’s right – FB. If Margie didn’t own her own Court Reporting business, she should have either been a writer or a comedian, or both. Her rants on FB can range from the benign to the downright, “Where are you coming up with this shit?” which you remark to yourself…..under your breath…so she can’t hear you.

This week there were numerous posts, and I really can’t go into a whole lot of detail about them because you poor readers of my blog would become lost in all the bat recipes, fake strippers, and “Deliverance” remarks. But, I can tell you the facts which are pretty darn amazing:

(Oh, and Margie, if I’m not getting something correct, you need to comment on my blog here and NOT on Facebook, so others can see it, k?)

At 2 a.m. in the morning this past Thursday, Margie said she was sound asleep. She woke up either to hear something or had to pee (one of the two), and went to the bathroom. Turning on the light, she is confronted face to face with (ominous music…..da, da, daaaaaaaaaaaa) – a bat.

In her bathroom.

What the hell was a bat doing in her bathroom? The lid wasn’t up, so we are assuming it’s a girl bat. The bat wasn’t powdering her nose, or in mid-wipe, and we can say with 99.9% certainty that the bat wasn’t showering since there weren’t any little, used, and still wet washcloths lying around.

It was a stare down: Margie vs. The Bat. As you can imagine, the bat won. Margie panicked and began throwing towels at the bat. Her pure, white, fluffy towels were now on a rabies infected guano layered bat. She slammed the door and then ran back to her room.

“Wait!” She thought. “That bat is gonna find a way out of the bathroom and she’s going to try and kill me. I need to protect myself.” So, what does Margie do? She does what any modern woman would do these days: She Googles.

Bat Exterminator, Bat Be Gone, Adios Bats….Anything.  She calls and leaves messages for anyone who will listen to her. She googles with her right hand while holding a knife in the other hand. Margie is a true warrior!

Finally, a guy calls her back in the wee hours on Thursday to listen to Margie’s plight. He goes into detail about the bats and the best way to catch them is with a butterfly net….Whaaaa..huuhhhh????

This is where Margie starts to think this guy isn’t who she thinks he is. Now on only two hours of sleep, Margie seems to think that I put this guy up to calling her and making up ridiculous solutions on how to catch a bat. She thinks that because of his insane ideas, and how he’s talking, that I can be the only person on the planet who would call some guy who looks like he’s from “Deliverance”, and ask him to call my friend to freak her out about killing a bat in her bathroom with a badminton racket. (What I just said can be a new addition to the Clue game….Margie killed the bat in the bathroom with the badminton racket).

I digress.

Fast forward to the following evening around 4 pm when Margie gets home from work on two hours of sleep, and left the bat locked in the bathroom (or so she thought). She walks in the door and the bat is now in the living room, doing her nails, and flipping thru the cable channels. Well, almost…The bat is now flying around the living room…..Oh, and she brought a friend with her. Since she and her friend have been flying around the house all day, they’ve probably been planting land mines all over the place. That bat poop is not something you can recycle, so don’t go all ORGANIC on me about how to “save” bat poop.

At this point, Margie is swatting at anything that moves. Even now, a fly will go past her face, and she’ll scream at the top of her lungs.  The Bat Exterminator (or whatever you call them these days) finally shows up. He goes into the attic and discovers NINE bats.

So, now he needs to capture nine bats, test them for rabies and then….well, I don’t know what happens. What do they do with bats? Free them in the wild? The nearest you’ll get to anything “wild” to Oak Park is a nearby forest preserve…or a bar.

How the bats got into Margie’s Belfry has yet to be determined. There were probably some slats in that old attic that allowed the bats to escape from the heat. In Margie’s attic, they relaxed in the shade, ate insulation and pooped all over the rafters.

I am assuming they are all collected and are gone, but Margie can fill us in on the outcome of her flying friends.

I’m exhausted from the heat and the bats – See ya!

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