OF COURSE I would get attacked by a rogue bat flying into the Pastor’s house this evening. Why do I even pretend to be surprised?
Let’s back it up.
So, a few staff members and I were just having normal, after-supper conversation at the Pastor’s house. I was in a great mood, even after having a fairly controversial conversation about adoption and abortions (yeah, I definitely crossed that line). Suddenly, something flies in through the open door (rule #1: ALWAYS shut the door), hits the wall, and comes flying at me. I duck down in my chair, allowing the thing to pass and hit another wall. It turns around and starts heading towards the door only to hit a chair, causing it to be disoriented (because hitting everything else apparently didn’t do a thing to this beast’s navigation system) and come back towards me. At this moment I’m still confused as to what this thing is, so I’m relatively calm and remain in my chair. The thing hits my leg, resulting in it getting caught in my skirt (rule #2: wear shorter skirts). I shake it out where it flies and hits another chair and falls to the ground. I make the mistake of asking what the thing was and the Pastor says the second two words I never want to hear regarding something I just shook out of my skirt (the first being a snake)…a bat.
I freak out a little, but assuming the bat escaped out the still open door, I calm down. That is, until the bat begins flapping about on the floor like a fish out of water (apparently, getting caught in my skirt caused it to lose its ability to fly). I let out a very cliché, high-pitched scream (think Michael Jackson’s singing during the crotch grab, but more terrified…go ahead, laugh) and the Pastor stomps on the bat.
Five minutes later I find myself feeling the need to be escorted to my house, a mere ten feet away.
Just another night for the bat whisperer (copyright Alia Fry).