The Adventures of Pecadillo

by Pecadillo

Editor's note: Pecadillo and wife are celebrating their first anniversary by driving from Los Angeles to the scene of their wedding last year. In lieu of his annual blogpost, Pecadillo submitted this series of Tweets last night.

Driving through cow country. This part of California smells like a giant, open-air AM/PM.

The journey to our hotel was a blogpost in and of itself. After we got settled in the room, we discovered we weren't alone in the room.

There was a bat in our room and it was flying at us like a Japanese kamikaze pilot.

I've never seen a bat before aside from at the zoo. I nearly soiled my pants.

In fact, had I not been in the bathroom when the trophy wife discovered the bat, I'm quite sure I would find myself in need of a new wardrobe.

We're at a spa by the beach in Mendocino. There are only 10 rooms and no on duty staff after 9 PM. It's very secluded. Translation: no help.

Luckily, there was a hotel masseuse that looked and talked exactly like Peter Lorre, who was on his way out the door who helped us.

He was probably 7 feet tall—no joke. He had to do the limbo to get thru our door—and he had big Carly Simon/Gary Busey teeth.

He also had a creepy Eastern European accent that woulda sounded menacing had he not been prancing away from the bat.

Then another guy showed up with a pool net that was still wet and dripping chlorine all over our room and bed.

After literally 45 minutes of me & the pool guy trying to catch the bat in the room (Peter Lorre was in the hall, hiding) we finally got it.

Literally, for 45 minutes I watched this flying rodent soar all over our room, landing on our stuff. I'm pretty sure my luggage has rabies.

To be honest, I wasn't exactly John Wayne during those 45 minutes, although I did almost shoot it numerous times.

Let's just say I'm glad there weren't too many other people around to observe my "power stance" whenever dracula flew by.

Still, at least I was in the room. Peter Lorre was out in the hall and had to be consoled by the trophy wife.

The only person tall enough to reach the bat was the same guy who was trying to hide in the laundry room. Wonderful.

Anyways, after 45 minutes of trying to catch the beast that wikipedia calls a "natural reservoir for many zoonotic pathogens" we got it.

We were trying to catch it in the net (the pool guy was a hippie) but accidentally hit it with the pole and it fell to the ground, lifeless.

With that, the pool guy scooped up little Adam West (we named it) in the net and left the room to go dispose of it. He was very apologetic.

Our room has chlorine water everywhere, net marks all over the walls and ceilings, and probably more viruses than a petrie dish.

And there's no one here who can get us into another room. Fantastic.

On his way out, Peter Lorre offered us 20% off the cost of a massage at the spa. Yeah, that's gonna make it all better.

Somehow, the trophy wife was already able to fall asleep. Not me. I want to be awake when lockjaw sets in.

---