Jogging Through Nimh

Tonight I was on one of my short runs, which I do 3 or 4 times a week. I only go about a mile roundtrip, but it makes me feel like I'm doing something for my health and wellness. (Quit bragging!)

It's kind of an industrial run, through wholesale bakeries and ice cream truck depots and lumberyards. There is very little foot or vehicle traffic so I can really haul. After I go a half mile, I walk for about thirty seconds before I start running again. (I think I saw this fitness technique on the TV once)

Anyway, tonight as I was approaching some trash cans on my half-mile stroll, I noticed movement on the ground. Sure enough, there were two or three rats poking about the cans. Honestly it didn't faze me, I've become de-sensitized to the cheeky little weirdos. Or so I thought.

As I got closer to the trash cans, it appeared I vastly misjudged the size of the rat army. All of a sudden they were everywhere, trying to get away from me but confused and running over and into my shoes. There were fifteen or more of them, running every which way. I noticed that a sporty Island gentleman was also trapped in the sea of vermin.

Carribean reaction: cool and collected, stand stock still and wide-eyed until the rat wave subsides.

My reaction: start flailing my arms around like a sissy, tripping all over myself and making weird guttural noises. I attract the attention of a passing UHaul who slows down to laugh and point.

But I mean, can you blame me?