Sidewalk Road Kill

This morning as I make my way out of North Station and on to the sidewalk, I feel something squishy under my shoe. I cringe and think to myself “How could I have stepped in dog sh*t twice in one day?” (I had stepped in my neighbor’s dog sh*t on the sidewalk earlier this morning on my walk with my dog. Luckily it was the beginning of our walk so I could smear it off in various grassy spots.  Quick note to husband: Don’t worry Hunny, it was all gone before I entered the house and I didn’t track it in the house on to our precious hard wood floors.) I lift my foot to look at the damage and to my grotesque surprise, I did not step in dog sh*t, I stepped on a dead, bloody mouse. My winter white ballet flat was smeared with mouse guts.

 I try my best not to gag and am not sure what to do. There is no grassy spot to wipe my foot on. There are no puddles nearby. Gag! Gag! Gag!

I tell myself not to think about it. I have a mile ahead of me to get this little sucker off my shoe. I start by limping but quickly tell myself that there is nothing wrong with my foot and I just look like an idiot so I straighten up and walked normal.

A mile later, this little guy is gone but I still know he was there. When I get to my office, I take one of those double sided, gritty Lysol wipes to the bottom of both shoes to be on the safe side. I tuck my flats under my desk and switch to my non-mouse-gut office stiletto’s that have only touched the outside world once because I had to do twist and shout dance moves on the  sidewalk to scuff up the bottom so I wouldn’t fall flat on my face on the carpet in the office.

Oh the joys of commuting in the city!

We Saw a Mouse!

Oh you know, it's just a normal day. I'm talking with my friend after we get through the gates at the T. We round the corner and are walking down the stairs when all of a sudden we get to the bottom and there is a dead mouse who has fallen victim to foot traffic road kill! He is smack dab in the middle of the stairwell at the bottom sprawled out for everyone to see. I threw my hand out "WATCH OUT!" I scream to my friend. She just screams and then I scream. We do the "Oh-My-God-It's-A-Mouse-Dance". Ya know, the one every woman does when she comes across one of these furry little beasts. Our arms flailing about and our legs going up and down like we are training for football doing the tire running strength exercise,  even though we know he is already dead.

Luckily we saw him and if we didn't, we had rain boots on so it wouldn't have been a huge deal if we didn't.  We could just jump in a puddle and wash off his poor little guts. However, other girls wear ballerina flats during their commute and it's not so easy to avoid mouse guts on your feet and rinsing off is just not an option. Transit police, surprise surprise, were no where in sight so we couldn't even let them know so that they could put a cone over him so people know to go around while they figure out how to remove the little critter.

Needless to say, seeing this mousy mouse, didn't sit well with me! It means there are other mice traveling in the station too. I mean, I was aware that they do live there along with god forbid, rats!! However, seeing him in plain sight was obviously not the highlight of my commuting experience.