Okay... in case some of you don't know, I might've had a mouse in my closet two nights ago. (Scroll down to the bottom of this post for links to the beginning of the mouse saga.) Before I tell you if there was a mouse or if I caught a mouse, I want to tell you how my day went yesterday.
After waking up at 2pm (see this post for more details on that), I called my landlord and told him that I have a mouse. He owns a butcher shop, so he sent one of his butcher shop cronies up to my apartment to check it out. When the guy arrived, I told him the whole story and pointed to my closet, which had been sealed off with a periwinkle Martha Stewart towel. "He's in there," I said. "I know it." Butcher Shop Crony (BSC) opened the door and looked around, but he didn't see the mouse or any trace of the mouse inside. Seriously, there weren't droppings lying around or anything.
After looking for an explanation, BSC--get this--started pointing (because he doesn't speak English) to my vacuum cleaner (which I keep in this closet), insinuating it was that that was making the noise I heard. This seemed to be the only logical explanation to him because, you know, all vacuums make noise when they're unplugged, sitting in a closet. Moron. I told BSC that the noises I heard weren't coming from my vacuum cleaner magically moving around in the closet, nor were they a figment of my imagination--they were coming from a mouse--but he wouldn't listen. I heard chewing. I heard gnawing. THERE'S A MOUSE IN MY CLOSET, WHY WON'T YOU BELIEVE ME?!!?
On his way out, I asked BSC if he'd bring me a mousetrap, but he just shook his head. "Non."
After this, I called my family and friends and told them the story of the mouse. At first they were like, "Oh I believe you," but when they heard the "no droppings" part they changed their mind. One by one, they all tried to convince me that I was crazy, that there probably wasn't a mouse in my closet, that I must've overreacted. I told them no, that Elvis and Bev saw/heard the little rodent too, but apparently they don't count.
Anyway, around 5pm the money that I was waiting for magically appeared in my checking account (yes!), so I marched down to the corner store and bought myself a mousetrap. They didn't have "real" mousetraps there, the kind that maim and KILL the little rodents, just glue traps. The guy behind the register laughed while ringing me up.
When I got home, I put a glue trap down in the closet and closed the door. A few hours went by and nothing. A few more hours went by and still nothing. After a few more hours, I decided to put a second glue trap down with a piece of Beverly's dog food right in the middle of it. And then... about an hour later... I heard it. "Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!" (sounds of the plastic being dragged around) "Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!"
This happened less than an hour ago.
First of all, I feel justified. I HAD A MOUSE IN MY CLOSET--I KNEW IT! Second of all, I'm scared shitless to open the door. The squeaking and plastic dragging has stopped so maybe I should--oh wait. There it goes again. I spoke too soon. I think the mouse is trying to move around.
I momentarily feel sad.
The moment is over.
This is so freakin' disgusting.
The butcher shop opens at 7:30am. I hope BSC is there again so I can say, "Ha! I was right. There was a mouse in my closet. And I caught it."
Before I go, can we talk about the box the glue traps came in? I mean, what's going on there? First, the two mice they drew on the cover look like
Tom Jerry, a mouse that I--and I think I speak for a large majority of the population here--grew up with and consider to be my friend. Second, what exactly are the mice on the glue trap doing? The one at the bottom looks like he's taking a nap after a hearty meal, and the one on the left looks like he's about to join him. Are they supposed to be dead/dying? It says "Non-Poisonous" right at the bottom so I doubt it. I bet the one on the bottom is thinking, "Seeing as though I'm stuck here until someone comes to get me I might as well get some rest." And I think the one on the left went blind or something and is like, "My eyes! My eyes!" On the other hand, maybe he just has allergies.
And oh yes, and in case you're wondering... I have been up all night--I'm not an early riser. This mouse is wreaking havoc on my life. (Okay fine, the extra-long Xanax-induced sleep yesterday didn't help either, but that was the mouse's fault, too.)
UPDATE: This post was linked on Gawker. Thanks!