Hell Hath No Fury Like A Hamster Ignored

Was standing talking to a friend who reads the Beaten Hamster this evening. She was complimenting me on my Chuck Taylor Header and we wandered off on the topic of blogs. Her sister was also standing nearby and she said something to the effect of "I've given up and started reading your blog". Probably wasn't really posed in quite that negative a connotation (well, then again...tact isn't her strongest quality...) but her sister quickly jumped in and said how much she liked reading my stuff.

I understand a little bit of what Belva meant - for a long time the only blogs that I ever saw were pretty lifeless. Until I found the Smoking Nun - which is one of my favorite ways to drink my coffee and eat a PopTart in the mornings...

There is some ho-hum material out there. But there are these nuggets of wisdom or entertainment too...you just have to dig and once you find something you like, keep coming back (keeps us from getting slack and not posting).

Then again - it may be like the Harry Potter series. I kept hearing how great it was. And how clever and how entertaining. (just like the B-Hamster) But I refused to get sucked into it for a long time. If that many people liked it - then it must be like Danielle Steele, fluffy stuff to entertain the unwashed masses. Well - then I read the first four books in about 2 weeks. I'm hooked - and I hope that Belva is now hooked on this!

So - back to the conversation with Melva (yeah...Belva and Melva...they are twins. The handy thing is that if you're talking about/to both of them you can shorthand it to Elvas). She was saying how she was amused by tales of my evil roommate. (lazy post) And I said "I didn't even tell about the puppy!" (hmmm...goes my mind...post material!)

I had some strange roommates through the years. My first year at King's Dominion I lived with my sister Denise and in the interest of family peace...I will tell no tales (yet). The second year I roomed with an odd co-worker who had a big cat. Couple of problems. One, she was either cheap as hell or liked to sleep in saunas. She refused to run the AC at night. In summer in Richmond. It was a nightmare. Would have been a little better if I had been able to open my bedroom window. But I couldn't, because the screen was missing and her cat liked to walk on the windowsill - outside. Second story window. I learned to sleep very still with a fan blowing across a bowl of ice cubes. And whenever anyone needed a house sitter - I was there.

So the next year I decided to room with some of the dancers. Because I was the only Virginia resident, most of the bills were in my name. And for 2 of my 3 roommates - not a problem. Something due, they had the $$. And Arthur taught me to color my hair. And that there was nothing wrong with watching a little gay porn during dinner. Tolerance is my middle name.

But then there was the other one. We'll call him Robert. Mostly because that is his real name. One day we came home and Robert had gotten a puppy. 4 people living in a 3 bedroom apartment (sometimes there was 5th person sleeping in the dining room) and without even asking...well, that takes some nerve. After about 3 weeks of dodging piles of puppy poop/etc. and dealing with Onyx under foot...while Robert was out sleeping with his latest conquest(s)... We had about enough.

And then the fateful Friday night... Robert was out doing who knows what with God knows who, Marf was hanging out with people someplace else and so Arthur and I decided to play Monopoly. There may have been an adult beverage or two involved. Arthur had run out of money and landed on one of my properties so in lieu of rent...I sent him to fix me a bowl of ice cream. We had corralled Onyx in the dining room/kitchen area; as Arthur stepped over the barrier - that dang puppy darted under foot and he stepped on him.

Suddenly the peaceful scene was chaotic. Puppy squealing every time it put weight on its leg and Arthur screaming "oh my god. oh my god. oh my god". Oh my God indeed. So after slapping Arthur and getting him to hold the puppy down on the carpet so it would stop trying to stand up, I started searching for an all night vet. There was exactly one. We called Robert to meet us there and headed over. Arthur in the back seat of my nifty K-car - both he and the puppy whimpering from time to time.

When we got to the emergency vet we told them that the owner of the puppy was on his way. And we waited. Me, Arthur and the broken puppy. 2 hours later we called Robert who told us that everyone at the party he was at was too messed up to drive. We told him in no uncertain terms that he was to get his drunken ass over there. After another hour it was clear that he wasn't going to show. So then we began the difficult process of getting the veterinary assistant gestapo to treat the broken puppy. Once I finally whipped out my credit card they relented.

I even sprung the extra 50 bucks to sedate the poor little thing while they set its leg. Which meant it had to stay until morning to be watched.

Whoo. By this time it is 3am and I knew I had to be at a work call at 10am. Sleep seemed so welcoming. But as we started to depart the gestapo reminded us that we needed to pick Onyx back up in the morning before closing time. At 7:30am.

Got home. Too wired to sleep I called my Aunt who worked 3rd shift on a switchboard. Then I took a nap for about 12.5 seconds. Got the puppy. Slept for 45 minutes. Went to work.

We had finished the work call stuff and were hanging out in the green room when the dancers started arriving for pre-show preparations. I was mentally and physically exhausted - basically was sitting at a table with 3 other techs and staring off into space. Robert walked in and strolled past the table we were sitting at. No possible way you could miss me. Just walked by. I'm told that my gaze followed him and that I glazed over in fury - it took three people to wrestle me out onto the stage. I was livid. Pacing. Throwing things.

The stage manager came out. Rich Mason. He was calm as he asked me if I was planning to damage Robert. Turns out that Robert was now hiding in the men's dressing room whimpering. Wise decision. I did not kill him. Onyx went to live someplace else.

Robert still owes me money from rent and collect phone calls to his boyfriend in Puerto Rico. I regret not damaging him then. If given the opportunity I might step on him.

Hamster glad to have good house mates now. Though sometimes I do miss watching the gay porn during dinner.