Somebody's Watching You

Just for you BILL

Last night I was terrorized by a raccoon.

Yeah it sounds funny NOW.

There are raccoons in the neighbourhood, I knew this already. Now and then I encounter one in the driveway, steely eyed, looking at me like it's trying to calculate how easy it would be to knock me down and eat my face off. On those occasions, we regard each other warily then I back up and leave, and it does whatever raccoons do in these situations. Sometimes, in the evening, they even scale the trees in the yard and wander onto the roof, where they stomp around like tiny Nazis, giving me the fear at 2 a.m. because I think someone's in the attic.

Last night, however, necessitated an evening drive to the supermarket as a tragedy had occurred and I'd found myself devoid of both Coke Zero and wine, and well...if that's not a Defcon 1 situation I'd like to know what is.

It was only 8 p.m. or so and just gotten dark. When I rounded the corner into the drive, I saw some smallish critter with a tail like a particularly hirsute toilet brush, dart behind the end of the house at the other end of the drive. I commenced to my car and got in. While sitting there, fiddling with the club lock (because my car's the approximate age of Christopher Columbus) I saw the little furry piece of evil lurking at the bottom of the drive again, clearly thinking I'd gone and the coast was clear. It then proceeded to march up the slope towards the car with the clear intention of murdering me and nibbling on my spleen. Nope.

It then darted right under the car. Great. I was just about to leave. I didn't want to start up and drive over it, I can only take so much trauma in one day and the running out of wine thing had taken its toll already.

I jiggled around a bit hoping the movement would alert it to my presence and it would move. I saw nothing even though I was scoping out all my mirrors like a madman. So I tooted my horn which...I don't know if anyone else has a '99 Cavalier but man, it's about as manly as Barry Manilow in a tutu arriving at a Liberace concert while riding a unicorn. It sounds like a 4 year old girl whining. Anyway, no luck.

I started the engine figuring the sound would scare it out and I could commence my great wine and coke zero quest. I figured wrong, though. I reversed just a few inches hoping that would do the trick. No sign of the raccoon.

It was at that moment I thought two things. 1) fuck my life, and 2) I had to get out and look under the car to see if it was actually there, and risk it leaping out from the depths of hell and attaching itself to my face while screaming like a banshee.

I could've also decided to maybe not go to the store after all but, seriously??? I mean NO wine, not even the shitty stuff you cook with.

So I carefully tested the waters, so to speak, by allowing my left leg to dangle, precariously, over the edge of the car, listening furtively for any sign of a rabid screech that would suggest some zombie-esque nibbling was about to begin. Nothing. I got out of the car.

"Get your ass out of there!" I said in a really bold, confident, and completely "I have the situation under control!" type of way (maybe). Nothing happened.

I was pretty sure by now it wasn't even under the damn car, it had escaped around the front of the house or next door or something. But I didn't want to risk running over it and skeezing myself out, not to mention the guilt factor of killing a little creature that looked comically like Judd Hirsch.

I slowly bent down and tried to get a look near the wheels at the front. I saw nothing! Phew. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned around to get back in, and as I did THERE IS A FUCKING RACCOON RIGHT BEHIND ME, its evil little eyes glinting at me like, "You want to run your little, pussy, ancient car over me? huh?"

This happened in this order.

I shrieked like a little girl.

The racooon made a sound like if you'd accidentally trod on a six foot tall budgerigar.

It took off like a bat out of hell in one direction, and I ran the opposite way.

I dropped my car keys in some tall plants and tripped over my own feet.

Hell yes, I found those suckers and still went to the store. If a person ever needed wine, it was RIGHT THEN.

The moral of this story is, never run out of wine.

* I don't mind raccoons really. Mostly.