Down The Deep Dark Hole

I'm a tad claustrophobic. I didn't used to be. Went caving all the time, long ago, in the misspent days of my youth.

There was this one cave we visited. Getting into the "Foyer" was easy, but once you were in a ways, there was this entryway we called the "Steering Wheel," because it was a hole you had to crawl through that was a little bigger than the steering wheel on my car at the time. It wasn't just a HOLE, either. It was a four foot long GAP. You had to put your arms ahead of you and oonch along on your stomach muscles, inchworm style. But it was worth it, because of the gorgeous gallery up ahead, with these glittering calcite stalactites.

Then one day, we were down there, sitting and talking in the dark and admiring the natural beauty of the cave, and someone asked, "What time is it?"

...and I suddenly realized that it was much later than I thought it was. "OH, SHIT, WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW!"

Y'see, caves in Texas are quite often home to thousands of Mexican freetail bats that come out in the early evening to hunt bugs. Little buggers can eat a third of their weight in mosquitoes every night.

And in summer, they tend to come out ALL AT ONCE.

We scrambled, but I had to go first, because I was the only one who knew which way to go to get out. And I oonched through that four foot wiggle like I had never oonched before.

We almost made it.

And I will hear, forevermore, echoing in the dark spaces of my memory, Charlie's screams as several thousand Mexican freetail bats tried to get AROUND him through a four foot long tunnel that was less than two feet across.

I tell you, it was one lively night at the emergency room, that night...

The Landlady And The Lock

I remember the landlady I had who'd let herself into my apartment periodically.

First of every month, if I hadn't shown up by two or so to pay the rent, she'd let herself in and want to know where it was, and give me a little speech. I'll never forget the one about how she could destroy my credibility if I ever tried to get government work, because I was untrustworthy because I hadn't paid my rent on time, and I'd never get a security clearance, and SHE COULD DO THIS, if I pushed her!

Wasn't just rent, either. She'd let herself in if she heard a weird noise, or to ask me if I'd seen a thing in the yard, and, I think, just because she was bored. She didn't knock. She simply tried the knob, and then I'd hear the key in the lock, and THERE SHE WAS. I objected, and she pointed out that the lease allowed her the prerogative of inspecting the premises whenever she pleased. It was HER house, not mine, young man, and you watch your tone!

One day, I didn't want to be intruded upon, and I drove a wood screw into the doorjamb in such a way that it would block the door from opening. I got in the habit of doing this whenever I didn't care to be disturbed.

It wasn't more than a couple of weeks after I started doing this that I heard the key in the lock and the sound of the door trying to open. I ignored it. She wrestled with the door awhile and then left. A while later, she came back and knocked. I pulled the screw out (by then, its hole was well defined enough, I could do it with my fingers in a second) and opened the door.

She IMMEDIATELY began screaming at me about how installation of a lock or bolt was a VIOLATION OF MY LEASE!

I said, "What lock or bolt? The only lock I have is the one on the doorknob."

She looked at the doorframe suspiciously. There were no telltale nail or screw holes, much less a lock or latch of any sort (the screwhole was in the doorjamb, well below her eye level, and she didn't notice it. "What did you do to my door?" she demanded.

"I open it," I said, "and sometimes I close it. Occasionally, I use the deadbolt, to which we both have keys. In what way have I violated my lease?"

She gave me a look of naked hatred. "You did SOMETHING," she said.

"Perhaps the door is stuck," I said. "I haven't noticed it myself. Perhaps some sort of maintenance is required. It is, of course, your house, and you are of course welcome to inspect, repair, or replace the door, lock, or frame at your whim, dear lady."

I couldn't keep her out when I was gone, but I did keep her out on occasion when I was home, particularly when I was entertaining. She never did figure out what I was doing, and it drove her crazy, wondering. I think she was glad when I decided not to renew my lease at its expiration period.

The moral of the story: It sucks to be at the mercy of someone else, who can be an ass to you and there's nothing you can do about it. It does inspire novel methods of dealing with the situation, though.

And it makes me wonder if having to deal with people like THIS is how we develop some little kernel of empathy in our hearts...