V for Vendetta. M for Mousie.

I have a new roommate. Like most, an unwanted roommate who 1. doesn't pay rent and 2. leaves his shit (literally) all over the place.

My new roommate is a mouse, and he has some serious issues with me.

Now, I understand that the cold weather just started and I live in an apartment building in New York City. Mice happen and I can live with that. What I cannot live with is when the little fucker comes into my bedroom--yes, you heard me right. he came into my bedroom--TWO nights in a row at 5:00AM and woke me up. He was rustling through my little file cabinet, apparently going through some of my old tax forms. It remains to be seen if the IRS will now be auditing me. When i turned on the light, he just sat there and looked at me. I have a feeling that if he could have, he totally would have flipped me the bird. There was some serious bad feeling I was getting from him.

I think I know why: when I first noticed the mouse, it was approximately 9pm on a weeknight and I was home watching some TV. The little bugger ran across the wall of my living room and hopped through the unbelievably small crack where the radiator pipe was. Fine. That weekend I got some steel wool and plugged up the hole. With mousie not in there, I guess. So now he's pissed at me and is trying to make my life hell.

So after being woken up at 5:00AM two days in a row, I decided to bust out the big guns and put out some glue traps. Yes, yes, they are totally gross and inhumane, but less bloody than a snap trap (which doesn't always kill instantly either), and more effective than the no-see-um hockey puck traps I got.

Well, 3 days later and I still haven't caught him. I think he suspects something b/c I haven't heard a peep from him. I still wake up in the middle of the night, but that's my own paranoia and/or heavy drinking that is the cause. My mom just got into town, so I explained the whole situation to her, in case the mouse's vendetta is automatically transferred to my family members. And this was the conversation that ensued:

Mom: What kind of bait are you using for the traps?

FC: Peanut butter. Chunky kind.

Mom: Oh no, that won't do. New York City mice prefer bacon.

FC: WTF? How the hell do you know they like bacon?

Mom: I've lived in NYC for years so I know this. Minnesotan mice are like country mice and they like peanut butter. But NYC mice want something better.

FC: I don't believe you. (sarcastically) Do they like the thick cut, non-fatty bacon the best?

Mom: Yes. I'll pick some up tomorrow. You'll see. I'll catch that mouse.


No lie. This is the conversation I had with my mother.

I'll keep you updated on whether or not the bacon traps work...