How we disposed of mice in Chinatown
NYC, Centre Street, circa 2000.
- •4am bathroom trip. Shit. What the hell? Mice. Like a dozen of them just shot out of sight. Wait, maybe they are baby rats?!!! This is NYC after all.
- •We tell the landlord, Mrs. Yip. She shakes her head and says "mice, mice, okay! I take care." I'm fairly certain she's not going to take care of this.
- •That evening, there is a knock at the door.
- •"Are you expecting anyone?" I ask my roommate. I've always wanted to say that.
- •No peephole. I open the door anyway.
- •A Chinese man, dressed in a seventies brown leather jacket is standing there. He's holding something. This was about the time I was watching a lot of John Woo movies with my friend Gabe. We would get spicy instant ramen and forties from the corner store and have John Woo marathons. This guy was like a Woo villain.
- •"Here" he says, "for the mice." Handing over a CAT CARRIER. He also dropped a plastic bag filled with food and litter. And a litter box.
- •"Thanks" I say. Okay, we've got a CAT.
- •We debate about whether we should name this cat but I'm nervous about getting attached. We don't know how long he'll stay.
- •Cat proceeds to slay mice for weeks. He's a cold blooded killer.
- •He's starting to fit in. We think, maybe he'll stay. They must have forgot about him. He's even starting to snuggle...purr.
- •We pay rent early, if we're good, we can keep the cat.
- •Mice are gone.
- •Knock, knock.
- •It's the guy in the leather coat. "Time for cat to go, he has work across the street."
- •We pick up his food, favorite toys, litter box. Off he goes.
- •We sit on the black futon. Pretty down. I call Gabe for ramen, beer and Woo movies.